The conversion of Marie-Alphonse Ratisbonne

r

^sj-foQxfuZL

1

i

§To JOSEPH:

t

i

i

THE

CONVERSION

of

MARIE -ALPHONSE PATISBOOTE:

I

ORIGINAL NARRATIVE OP

BARON THEODORE DE BUSSE&RES ;

FOLLOWED BY A LETTER

PROM MR. RATISBONNE TO REV. MR. DUFRICHE-DESGENETTES,

CURE OF NOTRE-DAME DES VICTORIES AT PARIS.

EDITED BY THE REV. W. LOCKHART,

OP THE ORDER OP CHARITY.

NEW YORK:

T . -W . STBONG,

Late EDWARD DUNIGAN & BROTHER,

Catholic Publishing House,

599 BROADWAY.

ter

While I affirm that all the facts contained in this narrative are
related with rigorous exactness, and with the sincerest truth,
I declare, in compliance with the decree of Urhan VIII. that I
believe them as facts resting simply on human testimony, and on
motives of human reason alone.

THE BAEON DE BUSSIERES.

Rome, nth February, 1842.

APR 25 1955

PREFACE.

"We have given in this volume a literal translation
of the original accounts of the conversion of M.
Alphonse Ratisbonne. The attompt to construct
an independent narrative would be presumptuous
in itself, and would lose the simple force and fresh-
ness of these genuine documents. Those who
know the scrupulous and almost suspicious care
with which the pretensions of any alleged miracle
are tested at Rome, will feel the value of tho de-
cree of the Cardinal- Vicar which is prefixed. Bar-
on de Bussieres prefaced his first edition with a
declaration, that he claimed for his narrative only
that measure of assent which may be granted to
any ordinary statement, resting on human evi-
dence alone ; this decree has raised the conver-
sion of Mr. Ratisbonne to the position of an ac-
credited miracle.

It is both sad and strange to observe the air of
superb disdain with which miracles such as this are
set aside, even by those who seem least removed
from the Church, and who profess to accept the
miracles of Holy Scripture on their own evidence,

4 PKEFACE.

and to be familiar with the laws of moral reason-
ing.

And yet, surely, those who reject this state-
ment as an imposture or a delusion, should feel
bound to show wherein it lacks the criteria of a
true miracle. We may assume that they will be
unwilling to affirm that the power of working
miracles was restrained within the limits of the
apostolic age ; they know that this hypothesis is
fatal to historical Christianity, and belies the
promise of its inspired records. Nor will they
say that a miracle is so improbable a thing in the
kingdom of God that no amount of testimony
can render it credible ; they know well, that on
this view, they could hardly rescue the miracles
of the Gospels from the hands of unbelievers.

They must rest their rejection on one of these
grounds : they either regard the evidence for this
particular miracle as insufficient or untrustworthy ;
or they shrink from doctrines and practices which
seem to them imbedded in it, or presupposed by it.

Yet they have learnt from a great au-
thority amongst themselves,* that objections
to any revelation from God, as distin-
guished from objections to its evidence, are
frivolous. It is not competent to them to set
aside credible testimony to a miracle, simply
because that miracle carries with it theologi-
* Butler's Analogy, Part II. cli. iii.

PREFACE O

cal consequences which they deem at variance
with the general scheme of religion. Nor would
they thus reserve any right to blame the Jews for
rejecting our Lord's miracles. The only question
which they can logically entertain is the evidence
for this particular miracle — the apparition of the
Blessed Virgin to Alphonse Ratisbonne in the
church of St. Andrea at Rome.

And if we weigh the character of the witness
and his competency ; the improbability of his be-
ing deceived or wishing to deceive ; the simple
fact of the entire change wrought upon him in a
moment, in the conversion of his heart and the il-
lumination of his mind; the consequences of his
testimony to himself; and then, the many years
which have tested his sincerity and his stability ; —
if we weigh all these circumstances, we may ask
whether it is possible to decline to receive his tes-
timony on any grounds which would not excuse
the Jews that dwelt at Damascus for refusing to
credit the conversion of Saul of Tarsus, and Fes-
tus for deeming him mad. We repeat, that those
who feel that there is no antecedent improba-
bility in the occurrence of miracles, that the later
miracles cannot be discredited on a priori grounds
without shiking the credit of those of the Gos-
pels, are bound to justify their rejection of this
miracle by impeaching its evidence. This is the
only issue which a Christian can properly raise;
and that testimony cannot be trivial or in-

6 PREFACE.

different which the Church has stamped with the
seal of its acceptance.

But here we would invite attention to some
weighty and suggestive remarks of Cardinal Wise-
man, in his review of a pamphlet entitled A Voice
from Borne.*

"In proof that the Blessed Virgin is worshipped as the
Mother of mercies, temporal and spiritual, the author before
us appeals to the Baron de Bussieres' account of M. Ratis-
bonne's conversion from Judaism, ' which he distinctly attri-
butes to the immediate operation of the Virgin Mary ; for ho
relates, that it was effected by her actual appearance to him.'
Now, what is meant to be granted, and what is meant to be
doubted here, we do not know. We suppose that no one
doubts that M. Ratisbonne, from a Jew, did become a Catho-
lic, and has become a religious ; having abandoned home and
friends, and given up a long-cherished alliance. Any one
might as well deny that Sir R. Peel is prime minister. That
he went into the church of St. Andrew a Jew, and came out
a Christian, is attested upon evidence as certain as any fact
can well be — that of trustworthy and honest men, who saw
him and spoke with him before and after. For the change
something must account. That it was a true conversion from
Judaism to Christianity, with great temporal sacrifice;}, is
clear ; and such a conversion must have been the work of di-
vine grace. How communicated is the question. The only
witness can be the convert. He tells us that it was through
an apparition of the Mother of God, who instructed him in the
mysteries of our holy religion. Are we to believe that a per-
son is chosen by the Divine Goodness for an object of a most

» Dublin Review, Dec. 1843. Cardinal Wiseman's Essays, vol. i 560,

PREFACE. 7

singular act of grace, at the moment that he devises and tells
an abominable falsehood, to rob Him of the glory of it, and
give it to another, by feigning a vision of the Blessed Virgin ?
What does the author of the Voice mean to throw doubt on?
on the apparition, as for such a purpose impossible ? or on the
consequences drawn from it ? Surely not on the latter ; for if
the vision was true, it was right to consider the blessed Mother
of God, not as the source, but as the channel, of a gfeai
'spiritual mercy.'

*' Jx he wish to insinuate that it would be derogatory to
God*s honour, or incompatible with His revealed doctrines, to
believe such a mode of communicating grace and religious
instruction possible, and consequently, that th? whole must be
a figment or a delusion, we will, in answer, relate another
similar story, in which not a Jew, but a bishop, was the
party ; and we will premise that we have it on the best au-
thority.

" The person to whom we allude was a young man of sin-
gular piety and virtue. Left young an orphan, he devoted his
youth to study in a celebrated university. There his assi-
duity in left ruing was surpassed only by the purity and inno-
cence of his life, which stood the test of severe trials, and es-
caped the snares laid for him by profligate companions, jealous
of ids virtue. Having made himself master of all profane
learning, he entered on a course of sacred studies, under the
most celebrated professor of the day, and soon made consider-
able progress. He was, however, while yet young, put into
orders, and even named bishop, before he considered himself
well enough grounded in theological knowledge ; though
probably his humility led him to exaggerate his deficiencies.
He found himself quite unequal to the task of preaching the
Divine Word ; and on the eve of his first undertaking this
duty, he lay sleepless on his bed, in agitation and anxiety.
Suddenly he saw before him a venerable figure of an old

8 PREFACE.

man, whose countenance, attitude, and garb, bespoke great
dignity, but who, at the same time, appeared most gracious
and affable. Terrified at this appearance, he leaped from his
couch, and respectfully asked who he was, and for what pur-
pose he had come. The old man replied, in a gentle voice,
that he had come to calm his doubts and solve his difficulties.
This declaration soothed his fears, and made him look towards
his visitor with a mixture of joy and awe ; when he perceived,
that by steadily pointing with his hand towards the other side
of the apartment, he seemed to wish to turn his attention in
that direction. Thither he consequently turned his eyes, and
there he beheld a lady of peerless majesty, and of more than
human beauty, so resplendent that his eyes could not bear the
brightness of the vision, but he must needs bend them and his
countenance down, in reverential awe. Thus he listened t<?
the conversation of these two heavenly beings, which fully
instructed him on the subjects whereon he felt anxious, and
at the same time informed him who his gracious visitors were.
For the lady, addressing the other by the name of the Evan-
gelist John, requested him to instruct the youth in the mys-
tery of heavenly piety ; and he replied, ' that he was ready to
do even this, to please the Mother of his Lord, seeing that she
desired it.' And accordingly he did so.

M Such is our counterpart to the narrative objected to by
our author, respecting M. llatisbonne's conversion. Now, be-
fore giving the name of our authority for this wonderful his-
tory, or of the person to whom it refers, we will only beg our
reader, if not sufficiently versed in ecclesiastical biography, at
once to answer both points, to say to what Church or religion
he considers either the writer or the subject of this anecdote
belongs. Could he believe us, if we told him that it hap-
pened to Bishop Ken, or Bishop Wilson, or Archbishop Laud ;
or that we had transcribed it, as gravely told by some Angli-
can clergyman in a life of any of them ? We are sure he

PREFACE. 9

could not. The idea of a Protestant Bishop learning his
faith from u vision of the Blessed Virgin, would be deemed re-
pugnant to every principle and every feeling of the religion.
But were we to tell the reader that the bishop spoken of was
St. Alphonsus Liguori, or even St. Charles, and the narrator
an Italian monk or priest, he would at once allow, that such
an accnunt, from such a pen, concerning such a person, was
perfectly consistent with the principles of both ; and though, if
a Protestant, he might declare that he did not believe the
story, he would acknowledge that it did not surprise him to
find it in such a place. It must, then, be a Catholic, and not
a Protestant, who thought or said he saw such a vision ; and
it must be a Catholic, and not a Protestant, who has recorded
it, as believing it. And so it was. The bishop who thus
learnt his faith was St. Gregory Thaumaturgus, only little
more than two hundred years after Christ ; and the recorder
of the vision is the brother of the great St. Basil, St. Gregory,
Bishop of Nyssa. This would have been a nice anecdote for
our ancient note-taker upon the doctrines of Catholics."

The real reason why miracles such as this are
rejected with scorn, or passed by with indifference,
is not their antecedent improbability nor the inade-
quacy of their evidence ; it is that they imply and
render sensible the position and power of the blessed
Mother of God. The Protestant cannot endure
that glad and graceful vision of the Mother of Di-
vine Grrace — radios evibrans misericordice suce —
as Catholic piety delights to image her. It is an
gffence to him. It is something so intolerable to
him, that, in his antipathy, he forgets all canons of
moral reasoning; his conceptions and definitions

10 PREFACE.

become confused, and he allows this consoling vision
to neutralise the positive evidence, that the Church
which discloses it is alone of God.

And yet waving in thought what we can never
forget in fact, that clear voice of the Church which
is the Catholic's warrant of faith, why should it be
thought a thing so violently incredible that the
Mother of God should occupy the position, and ex-
ercise the powers, ascribed to her by the Church V
Surely there can be no natural and necessary im-
probability in that which East and West combine to
affirm. Except in the fancies of a modern and very
small section of the nominally Christian world, there
has never been any consciousness of an incompati-
bility between our assigned office and the Gospel.
Her glories and prerogatives, as Mother of Chris-
tians and a special channel of grace, have not shocked
the wisest and the holiest sons of the Church.

Nor can those who rightly ascribe so tremen-
dous an influence to Eve over the destinies of our
race, rightfully shrink from the range of power at-
tributed by the Church to the advocate and counter-
part of Eve. It cannot, surely, be a gratuitous
fancy to see in the effects of the unbelief and dis-
obedience of the mother of all living, in the order of
nature, a hint and a measure, though not a limit, of
the efficacy of the faith and obedience of the mother
of all living, in the order of grace.

But let us observe here, that the miraculous

PREFACE. 11

element in the conversion narrated in this volume
is simply the apparition of the blessed Mother of
God, and not her intercessory power. The Catholic
regards that power as a supernatural fact, a law of
the spiritual kingdom, one of the powers of the
ivorid to come. He needs no miracle to teach him
that. No number or splendour of miracles could
increase his faith in that. They would be but veri-
fications to sense of what he knows already, abso-
lutely and infallibly, by the teaching of the Church ;
what he sees already, by the deep intuition of faith.
Such a miracle as this might excite his faith, but
could not be its ground or warrant. He sees tho
office and the prerogatives of the Blessed Virgin in-
volved in the fact of the Incarnation. Mary, of
whom icas born Jesus — he needs no more. Mary,
Mother of God; Mary, bequeathed to us as our
mother from the Cros3 : the Divine Maternity in-
cludes and implies all. Her glories and her mighty
powers are only its natural consequences, and its
fitting adornment.

Is he reminded of the absence of express com-
mand to seek her intercession ? He feels that he
has the command of that same Spirit by whose in-
gpiration Scripture was written. For the Church
can ever say, it hath thus seemed good to the Holy
Ghost and to us. He would remind the objector,
that the relation in which the Mother of God stands
to us being known, the duty of religious regard to

12 PREFACE.

her, on Bishop Butler's principles, arises out of that
relation itself, and is an obligation of reason, bind-
ing as soon as that relation is known. It is our
duty as well as our privilege to seek the interces-
sion of those who have power with God ; and he
would call on the objector to produce some prohibi-
tion of so natural an exercise of that privilege.
And, indeed, Catholics feel that this objection does
strike at intercessory prayer in general. There is",
we know, an intercession, vast and mighty, which
rests upon and carries out, if we may so speak, the
great mediation of the Word made flesh ; and that
mediation is a legitimate object of desire, and con-
sequently of petition, to every Christian man. It
is for the objector to produce a command in limita-
tion of this our right, in the covenant of grace.

But then, to invoke the Blessed Mother, to im-
agine that she can hear our cry and turn on us her
pitying eyes — it is this which is deemed so absurd
as to need no refutation. As if the charge of ab-
surdity did not recoil on those who, with gros3
conceptions, impose on the world unseen the laws
of space and time and the like, which rule this
world that is seen; who dare to limit the range of
the perceptions of the blessed by the laws of man's
bodily senses, senses which are but the spirit's
points of contact with the material world. Surely,
it is both shallow and unscientific to reason from the
senses of this body of our lowness, to the powers

PREFACE. 13

and perceptions of the saints who reign with Christ.
Be it so, that we know not precisely how the Saints
hear our invocations. It is enough, to turn the
force of this objection drawn from our ignorance,
to say that we can conceive many ways in which
they may know the desires of our hearts. It is
quite enough for the Catholic to say : what if

A sea before
The throne is spread ; its pure still glass
Pictures all earth-scenes as they pass.

We, on its shore,
Share, in the bosom of our rest,
God's knowledge, and are blest.

Still there is a jealousy, honourable in its mo-
tive, most unwise in its conclusions, that our re-
course to the Blessed Mother of Christians does in
some way interfere with the simplicity of our trust
in Jesus. It is impossible for those who are with-
out, to understand the practical and ever-present
safeguards of the Catholic from all error, from all
excess. Tliey cannot know, for instance, the effect
of the Mass in regulating all his language and
thoughts ; nor how impossible it is that this per-
ception of the greatness of the powers which God
does communicate to the creature, should lessen the
greatness, or dim the glory of those which arc in-
communicable. Surely it should suffice to affirm that
the sole Mediatorship of the Incarnate Son of Cod
2

14 PREFACE.

is the very condition of all Catholic theology and
practice. Like the weakness of man an 1 the might
of grace, it is a law of the spiritual order, every
where felt, every where presupposed, every where
taken for granted, underlying evory statement,
pointing every prayer. It is not so much a part of
the Gospel, as the Gospel itself. But the interces-
sion of the Blessed Virgin and of the Saints cannot
be so stated as to clash with this oneness of media-
tion. They cannot ask otherwise than in accord-
ance with His will, nor apart from His great
pleading. It is upon that golden altar, which is be-
fore the throne of God, that the prayers of all saints
are offered, in St. John's vision. Now this is ever
present to the Catholic. However largely he may
ask of our Blessed Mother — and he does ask largely
— the principle of his asking and the law of its in-
terpretation are, Tu damper precata dulcisona —
by thy sweet prevailing prayer. However wide
and, to human notions unlimited, the range of
power he ascribes to the Mother of God, it abides
still an omnipotentia supplex, as St. Bernard beau-
tifully says. It cannot be otherwise to him. He
is never even tempted to confound the creatures
with the Creator, to mistake the streams for the
source.

But, indeed, it is not the illumination of tho
mind that is needed to bring back the strayed sheep
to the fold ; it is the attraction of the heart and

PREFACE.

15

the bending of the will, and this is the work of God
alone. Would those who doubt and object but
'meditate awhile on the solitary prerogative of Mary,
on her proximity to the flesh of Jesus, and on the
intensity of the mutual love that must bind to-
gether that Son and that Mother; would they but
try to look at her revealed position from the
Church's point of view, with all those limitations
and checks and safeguards of which they can form
no notion ; would they do this, not with the hard
cold gaze of the intellect, but with a loving docile
heart ; the objections which now hang like clouds
before their soul's eye would melt away of them-
selves and leave no trace. To such a one we would
say, in all affection, if you must reason ere you be-
lieve, remember the laws which control all moral
reasoning ; remember that no number of even irre-
ducible objections are of weight against that which
rests upon direct and positive evidence ; remember
that though this evidence is " liable to objections,
and may be run up into difficulties, it is not lost in
these difficulties or destroyed by these objections ; " *
remember that those who, like St. Bernard, St. An-
selm, St. Bonaventura, St. Alphonsus, have been
most devout to Mary, have spoken of Jesus with
the tongues of angels rather than of men; and
pray — ora fortiter et fideliter. And as you gaze,

* Butler's Analogy, Part II. chap. vi.

16 PREFACE.

you will see how the Mother of Jesus is the mother
of His mystical body likemse-^Mater membrorum
Ejv.s, as St. Augustine speaks. As you fathom the
import of the words, Behold the handmaid of the
Lord, you will come to feel that it is a mighty plea
and an availing, to say, Behold, 0 Lord, how that 1
am Thy servant, and the son of Thine handmaid ;
and you will soon be enabled to continue the
words of the psalm, Thou hast broken my bonds
asunder.

We owe an apology to our Catholic readers for the
length to which these remarks have extended. You
can hardly grasp the reality of the difficulty which
Protestants feel in the intercession of the Blessed
Virgin and of the Saints.. You can scarcely believe
that men, believing the mystery of the Incarnation,
can really confound things so accordant indeed, yet
so distinct, as the affiance of a Christian in Christ,
and his recourse to the prayers of all saints, with-
out intellectual weakness or moral perversity. To
you the miracle related here is, if I may so speak,
quite natural and in keeping; wonderful indeed,
but still what you are prepared to expect from the
Mother of mercy.

To you all Scripture speaks of her, in type and
figure, in prophecy and promise. To you the In-
carnation is unintelligible apart from her, and doc-
trine heterodox or unmeaning which makes no
mention of her. You know that as you have loved

PREFACE.

17

Jesus more, you have felt for her wliom He loved
best on earth, whom He cannot but delight to honour
in heaven — a truer, deeper, more loyal, and more
trustful love; and that as your devotion to the
Mother of God has gathered strength, you have
known and loved Jesus with a less reserved and
less reserving love. You know and feel that God
has indeed done great things unto her ; but it ha3
never occurred to you that He has thereby dimmed
the glory of His name. You have rather said with
her— -et sanctum nomen Ejus.

This narrative is of conversion, of Mary's tender
pity towards those who know her not. How can we
better express our thankfulness for this instance of
her compassion than by praying for those to whom
that very compassion is an offence and a hindrance?
We know, by manifold experience — we have heard
ivith our ears, and our fathers have declared it
to us — the reality, the range, and the patience of
that compassion. Let us pray for those who, from
amidst their gathering gloom, are casting wistful,
timid looks towards the one unwavering light, that
God's grace may still lead them on, and gently clear :
their way through their thorny objections, until it.

brings them under Mary's smile
And Peter's royal feet.

18

PREFACE.

Decree verifying and accrediting the Miraculous
Conversion of Marie- Alphonse Katisbonne.

In /he name of God. Amen.

In the year of our Lord and
Saviour Jesus Christ one
thousand eight hundred and
forty-two, heing the fifteenth
of the Roman Indiction, and
the twelfth year of the Ponti-
ficate of our Holy Father Pope
Gregory XVI., and on the
third day of June.

In the presence of the Very
Eminent and Reverend Con-
stantine Cardinal Patrizi, Vi-
car-General of onr Holy Fa-
ther the Pope, Ordinary Judge
of the Roman Court ....
appeared the Very Reverend
Francis Anivitti, Proctor-Fis-
cal of the tribunal of the Vi-
cariate, who had been spe-
cially deputed by the Very
Eminent and Reverend the
Cardinal-Vicar, to make in-
quiry and to examine wit-
nesses in regard of the truth
and reality of the wonderful
conversion from Judaism to
the Catholic Religion, grant-
ed, through the intercession
of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to
Alphonse Ratisbonne, a native
of Strasburg, twenty-eight
years of age, and now present
in this city : the which Proc-
tor declares that he applied
himself to the inquiry intrust-

In Dei Nomine. Amen.

Anno a salutifera D. N. J. C.
Nativitate milles. octogentes.
quadragesimo secundo, Indict.
Rom. XV., Pontificatus autem
sanctissimi D. N. PP. Grego-
rii XVI. ann. XII. die vero
tertiti Junii.

Coram Eminentissimo ae
Reverendissimo Constantino
Card. Patrizi, sanctissimi D.
N. PP., in alma urbe Vicario-
Generali, Romanseqne curice
ejusque districtus Judice Ordi-

nario comparuit Re-

verendissimus D. Franciscus
Anivitti, Promotor Fiscalis
tribunals Vicariatus, ab eo-
dem Eminentissimo ac Reve-
rendissimo D. Card. Vicario
specialiter delegatus, ad effec-
tum inquirendi et examinandi
testes super veritate et rele-
vantia mirabilis conversionis
ab Hebraismo ad Catholicam
religionem, quam, interce-
dente B. V. Maria, obtinuit
Alphonsus-Maria Ratisbonne,
Strasburgensis, anno viginti
octo, in urbe proesens ; dixit-
que muneri sibi demandato,
alacri . libentique animo sus-
cepto, qua potuit sedulitate ac
diligentia satisfacere studuisse,

PREFACE.

19

ed to him with the utmost
care and diligence, and with
a ready and willing mind.
He declares further, that he
has submitted the witnesses,
to the number of nine, to a
formal examination, and that
they all display a marvellous
agreement in their account of
the alleged fact, and of its
consequences and results.
Whereupon he declared that,
in his judgment, nothing was
wanting in the characteristics
of a true miracle ; but that,
nevertheless, he referred the
decision of the question to his
Eminence, and besought him
to issue a definitive decree, as
it might seem to him expe-
dient in the Lord, after a full
examination of the acts and
documents laid before him.

Whereupon the Very Em-
inent and Reverend Cardinal-
Vicar, having received the
report, and read the questions
proposed to the witnesses, to-
gether with their answers;
and after mature and careful
consideration of the same,
after having also taken the
advice and judgment of theo-
logians and other holy men,
in the form required by the
Council of Trent, Session 25,
de incocatime, &o, pronounced
and declared definitively, that
he affirmed the reality and
truth of the miracle wrought
by God, at the intercession of.
the Blessed Virgin Mary, in

subjiciendo formali examini
numero novem testes, qui,
omnes ad fiscalia interrogato-
riarespondentes, ingenua enar-
ratione, in iis quse ad substan-
tiam facti et mira bills eventus
extrema pertinent, mire con-
cordant. Quamobrem sil)i vi-
sum esse asseruit, nihil ad ra-
tionem veri miraculi ulterius
posse desidcrari. Rem tmnen
omnem definiendam remisit
Eminently sua? Reverendissi-
mse, quse, visis et examinatis
actis, examinibus et docu-
mentis, definitivum decreturn
prout in. Domino expedire ei
vidcbitur, interponere digna-
bitur.

Et tunc Eminentissimus ac
Reverendissimus D. Card, in
urbe Vicarius, audita rela-
tione, viso processu, visis tes-
tium examinibus, juribus, ac
documentis, iis sedulo matu-
reque consideratis, consulta-
tionibus etiam requisitis theo-
logorum aliorumque piorum
virorum, juxta formain Con-
cilii Tr'identini, Sess. 25, de
invocatione, veneratione, et
reliquiis sanctorum, ac sacris
imaginibus, dixit, pronuutia-
vit, et definitive declaravit,
plene constare de vero insigni-
que miraculo, a D. 0. M. in-
tercedente B. Maria Virgine,
patralo, videlicet imtautaneae

20

PREFACE.

the instantaneous and perfect
conversion from Judaism of
Alphonse Ratisbonne afore-
said. And, inasmuch as it is
honourable to confess and re-
veal the icorks of God, his Em-
inence is pleased to permit
that this narrative be printed
aud published, and held as
authentic, for the glory of
God, and for the increasing
the devotion of all true Chris-
tians to the Blessed Virgin
Mary.

Given at the palace of the
aforesaid Veiy Eminent and
Reverend Cardinal- Vicar and
Ordinary Judge, on the day,
month, and year aforesaid.

C. Card. Vicar.
Cam. Diamilla, Notary,
Joseph, Chancellor.
Tarxassi, Secretary.

A true copy.
Hace of the seal

perfect£eque conversions A1-
phonsi-Maria3 Ratisbonne ab
Hebraismo. Et quoniam ope-
ra Dei relevare et confiteri
honorificum est (Tob. xii. 7),
ideo ad majorem Dei gloriam,
et ad augendam dcvotionem
Christi fidelium erga B. Vir-
ginem Mariam, benigne in
Deo concessit, at prajfati in-
signis miraculi relatio publicis
typis tradi, impressaque evul-
gari possit, et valeat.

Datum ex sedibus ejusdem
Eminentissimi D. Cardinalis,
urbis Vicarii et Judicis Ordi-
narii, die, mense et anno qui-
bus supra.

C. Cardix., Vicarius
Cam. Diamilla, Not.Deput.
Joseph, Can.
Tarnassi, Sec.

Concordat cum originali.
Loco nigmim.

Et omnis plebs, vt vtdk,
dedit laudem Deo?

He who made use of a little clay from the
way-side to open to the light of heaven the eyes
of him that had been born blind, permitted
me to be the chief witness of an event of
which human reason alone can render no ade-
quate account. The fact I am about to relate
is beyond dispute. I am to speak of what I
saw with my own eyes — of what a multitude
of competent and trustworthy witnesses con-
firm— a man, in full possession of all his
senses and faculties, entered a church an obsti-
nate Jew; and, by one of those swift flashes
of grace which laid Saul prostrate at the gates
of Damascus, he came forth, ten minutes after-
wards, a Catholic in heart and in will.

Towards the close of the autumn of 1841,

22 THE CONVERSION OF

a young man, connected with a distinguished
family at Strasburg, arrived at Naples. He
was on his way to the East, in quest of health
and pleasure : yet it was not without regret
that he had quitted his native city ; for he left
behind him a fair and gentle girl whom he
loved with tender affection, and in whom his
heart had stored up its rich treasure of hope.
She was his own niece ; but mutual affection,
no less than family reasons, had determined
their union.

Alphonse Katisbonne was a Jew ; he was
destined, to all appearance, to a brilliant posi-
tion in the world, and had resolved to devote
himself to the great work of the regeneration of
his co-religionists. His thoughts and aspira-
tions all revolved around this one high
purpose, and his wrath kindled at every thing
that reminded him of the curse that rests
upon the descendants of Jacob. Fifteen years
before the time of which I am speaking, and
while he was yet a child, his heart had been
wounded in one of its most sensitive affections.
Theodore Katisbonne, his brother, became a
Catholic, and received holy orders. Time had
been powerless to close this wound ; his hatred
deepened year by year, and he studiously fo-
mented the deadly resentment of his family.

The blue sky of Naples could not make
him forget the East, the object of his journey,
nor the joys that awaited him on his return.
But a few months remained, and Sicily, Malta,

MAKIE-ALPHONSE RATISBONNE. 23

and Constantinople were to be visited. The
summer of 1842 was to restore him to his
home, and to witness a union which would fix
his position in life, and assure his perfect hap-
piness : it was time to be going. So he went
out one morning to take his place in the
steamer for Palermo. On his way it struck
him that he had not seen Rome ; that if he re-
turned to Strasburg, and married, and became
involved in the cares of business, there was
but little likelihood of his ever revisiting
Italy ; and under the influence of this sudden
thought he turned aside into the stage office
took his place, and within three days found
himself in Eome.

His stay was to be very short. His plans
were all made ; in a fortnight he would return
to Naples. It was all in vain that the Eternal
City displayed her wonders before him, he
could not spare a day more ; the East and his
bride awaited him. So he set to work like a
true tourist; visited ruins, churches, and gal-
leries, and crowded his memory with a con-
fused medley of impressions. He was eager
to have done with this city, to which he had
been drawn hj an unaccountable fascination
rather than by an intelligent curiosity.

And now he has finished his rounds. He
starts for Naples to-morrow ; but he must pay
a farewell visit to an old friend. Gustave
de Bnssieres had been his schoolfellow; and
they had kept up their early friendship, in

24 THE CONVERSION OF

spite of the antagonism of their religious opin-
ions. My brother Gustave is a very zealous
Protestant, of the sect of the Pietists. He
had made sundry attempts to gain over the
young Israelite ; but their discussions usually
wound up with two expressions, which suffi-
ciently indicate the position and temper of the
disputants : Fanatical ProtestanU shouted the
one ; Callous Jeiv, retorted the other.

Eatisbonne did not find my brother at
home, and so he came on to me. But he had
resolved not to come in; he would merely
leave a farewell card. Chance, or rather
Providence, ordered it so that his knock was
answered by an Italian servant, who mistook
his meaning, and introduced him, to his great
annoyance, into the drawing-room.

We had met but once, at. my brother's,
and notwithstanding all my efforts, I had
failed to obtain from Eatisbonne any thing
beyond the cold civility of a well-bred man.
However, he was Gustave's friend ; he was
the brother of my own dear friend, the Abbe
Eatisbonne ; and so I received him cordially,
talked to him of the wonders around him, and
gradually elicited his impressions of Eome.

" A rather odd thing happened to me the
other day," said he, in passing ; " while I was
looking over the church of Aracceli on the
Capitol, I felt myself suddenly seized with an
emotion for which I could assign no cause.
The valet de place, seeing my agitation, asked

MAEIE-ALPHONSE RATISBONNE. 25

rae what was the matter, and whether I would
go out into the open air ; adding, that he had
often seen strangers similarly affected."

While Ratisbonne was telling me this, I
suppose that my glistening eyes seemed to
say to him, You will be a Catholic / for lie
went on to say, with a marked intention, that
this emotion was not at all specifically Chris-
tian, but purely religious, in the most general
sense of the word. u Besides," he continued,
" as I came down from the Capitol a melan-
choly spectacle rekindled all my hatred of
Catholicism : I passed through the Ghetto ;
and as I beheld the misery and the degra-
dation of the Jews, I said to myself that, after
all, it was a loftier thing to be on the side oi
the oppressed than on that of the oppressors."
Our conversation now began to take a contro-
versial turn ; I tried, in my eager fervour, to
impart to him my own Catholic convictions ;
but he only smiled at my efforts, said that he
felt a sincere pity for my superstition, and
that he was lorn a Jew, and a Jew he would
die.

At this point of our discussion there came
into my head a very extraordinary idea, sug-
gested doubtless from above, for the wise of
this world would have called it foolishness ;
I said :

" Since you are so confident in the strength
and stability of your understanding, promise
ine to WW MV9f**Jvti& that 1 will give you."

i

26 THE CONVERSION OF

" Let me see it first ; what sort of thing
is it?"

" Only this medal," said I, and I held np
to him a medal of the Blessed Virgin, at sight
of which he threw himself back in his chair,
<vith a gesture of mingled indignation and
astonishment.

" Bnt," said I, quietly, " from your point
of view it must be perfectly indifferent to
you, whereas it would give me the very great-
est pleasure."

" Oh, I will not refuse you," he exclaimed,
with a hearty laugh ; u I shall at least show
you that people have no right to accuse us
Jews of obstinate and insurmountable infa-
tuation. Besides, you are furnishing me with
a charming chapter for my notes and impres-
sions of my travels." And he went on with
a succession of jests which wrung my heart,
for to me they were so many blasphemies.

However, I threw round his neck a ribbon,
to which one of my daughters had attached
the blessed medal while we were talking.
And now there remained a point still more
difficult to gain. I wished him to recite S.
Bernard's pious invocation, Ifemorare, o piis-
sima Virgo. . . . But this was too much for
him ; he refused very decidedly, and in a
tone which seemed to say : Really, this man's
impertinence is beyond all bounds. Still an
interior force urged me on, and I combated
his reiterated refusals with the energy of des-

MARIE-ALPHONSE KATISBONNE. 27

peration. I held out the prayer to him, and
begged him to take it away with him, re-
questing him to be kind enough to write it
out for me, as I did not possess another copy
of it.

At length he yielded, as if to rid himself
of my importunity, and said, in a tone of
vexation and contempt, ""Well, I will write it
out ; you shall have my copy and I will keep
yours;" and then he withdrew, muttering as
ne went, " What an unreasonable fellow that
is ! I wonder what he would say, if I were
to plague him thus to make him recite some
of my Jewish prayers ! "

After he was gone, my wife and I looked
at each other some time without speaking a
word. Distressed by the blasphemy to which
we had been compelled to listen, we united in
imploring pardon from God for him, and we
charged our two little daughters to say an
Ave Maria at night for his conversion.

From this point every circumstance seems
so important in order to the clear setting forth
of this great work of God, that I feel it a duty
to relate, as minutely and as accurately as
I can, every thing that passed, from the day
when Katisbonne carried away the Memorare
to the moment when the Mother of Mercy
removed the veil which obstructed his soul's
vision, and he received the grace to make a
public profession of the Catholic faith.

At first Katisbonne could not get over

28 THE CONVERSION OF

Ins astonishment at my importunity : he,
however, copied out the prayer; he read it
and read it again, in order to discover what
could give it such worth in my estimation,
and why I ascribed to it so mighty an effi-
cacy. By dint of writing and reading it he
had got it by heart; it recurred to his memory
continually; he went about repeating it me-
chanically, just as we unconsciously hum an
air which has struck our fancy.

I, on my part, felt, entirely absorbed in
this result of my interview with a man of
whom I knew next to nothing, and with whom
I had conversed that day for the first time.
I could not account for the internal force
which impelled me towards him, and which
inspired me with a deep inexplicable convic-
tion that God would, sonner or later, open his
eyes. I resolved to prevent, at all hazards,
his departure from Rome. I went to pay him
a visit at the Hotel Serny ; and as he was not
within, I left a note for him, requesting him
to call on me on the following day, which was
Sunday, at about half-past ten in the morning.

In the evening it was my turn to watch
before the Blessed Sacrament, according to
the pious custom at Rome, in company with
Prince M. A. B., and some other friends.
begged them to join me in my prayers to ob
tain of God the conversion of a Jew.

MAEIE-ALPHONSE KATISBONNE. 20

Sunday, January 16^t, 18i2,

Ratisbonne came punctually at the hour
appointed, and said to me, in an ofl-hand
way, " Well, I hope you have forgotten your
yesterday's dreams. I am come to say good-
bye to yon ; I am off to-night."

" My dreams! the thoughts which you are
pleased to call dreams occupy me more
than ever ; and as to your going away, we
will not speak of that, for you must absolutely
put it off for a week."

" Oh, that is impossible ; I have taken my
place."

"What of that? We will go together to
the office to say that you have changed your
mind and are not going."

a Oh, now this is going too far; most de-
cidedly I leave to-night."

" Most decidedly you will not leave to-
night, even if I have to lock you up in my
own room."

And then I went on to tell him that he
could not leave Rome without having seen so^ne
grand ceremony at St. Peter's ; that in a very
few days he would have a very favourable
opportunity ; and, in short, he was so amazed
at my pertinacity, that he suffered me to lead
him off to the office to erase his name from
the list of travellers; and then we visited the
houses of the Augustinians and Jesuits.

I dined that same day at the Borghese pal-
ace, in company with the Count de Laferron-
3*

30 THE CONVERSION OF

nays ; and in the course of the evening I told
him the hopes that filled my own heart, and
earnestly commended my young Jewish friend
to his prayers. In the unreserved conversa-
tion that followed, M. de Laferronnays spoke
to me of the confidence he had always felt in
the protection of the Blessed Virgin, even at
the time wdien the cares and distractions of
political life had scarcely permitted that prac-
tical piety of which his later years offered so
edifying an example. " Keep up a good
hope," said he ; " if he says the Memovare,
you have him to a certainty, and many others
with him."

Monday, January 17(h, 1842.

I walked in different directions with Ra-
tishonne, who came to me about one o'clock.
I was grieved to notice the little fruit of our
conversations. He was still in the same dis-
position of mind — still hated Catholicism in-
tensely, and made the most disparaging
remarks about it — still parried by raillery,
arguments which he thought not worth the
trouble of serious refutation.

Mr. de Laferronnays died the same night
at eleven o'clock. He left to his sorrowing
friends and family the memory of an edifying
example, and the consoling hope that God
had called him thus because he was ripe for
heaven.* Having long loved him as my own

* At the end will be found some details of the last mo-
ments of this truly noble and Christian man.

MARIE-ALPHONSE RATISBONNiC. 81

father, I had my part not only in the sorrow
of his family, but m the mournful duties
which devolved upon them; yet the thought
of Katisbonne followed me importunately even
beside the bier of my friend.

Tuesday, January IStk, 1842.

I had passed part of the night with this
sorrowing family, and felt unwilling to leave
them ; yet my thoughts turned restlessly to
Itatisbonne, as though an unseen hand were
drawing me towards him. I did not wish
to leave the remains of my friend, but I
could not banish from my mind this soul
which 1 was so anxious to subdue to the
faith. I communicated my mental conflict
to the Abbe G., who had been for many
years the chaplain and the friend of M. de
Laferronnays. " Go," said lie to me, " go
and carry on the work you have begun ; in
doing so you will best fulfil the wishes of
our deceased friend, who prayed fervently
for the conversion of this young man."

I immediately ran after Ratisbonne, and
took possession of him ; I showed him various
religious antiquities, that I might keep the
great truths of Catholicism in contact with his
mind. I got him to visit a second time the
church of Aracoeli. If he felt any return of
his emotion it was very fugitive, for he lis-
tened coldly to me, and answered all my ob-
servations with witticisms. "I will turn over

32 THE CONVERSION OF

these things in my mind," said he, " when I
am at Malta. I shall have plenty of time on
my hands, for I am to spend two months there,
and I shall be glad of any thing to keep me
from ennui."

Wednesday, January Idlh, 1842.

We walked in the direction of the Capitol
and Forum. Close by, on the Coelian hill, is
the church of S. Stefano Rotondo, the walls of
which are covered with frescoes, which repre-
sent with terrible fidelity the various torments
of the early martyrs. Eatisbonne was horri-
fied as we looked at them. " It is a hideous
sight," said he, as though to anticipate my
observations ; " but those of your religion
w^ere quite as cruel to the poor Jews in the
middle ages as the persecutors of antiquity
were to the Christians."

I showed him at St. John Lateran the bas-
reliefs above the statue of the twelve apostles.
On one side are the figures of the Old Testa-
ment, on the other their fulfilment in the
person of the Messias. The comparison seemed
to him ingenious.

We continued our walk towards the villa
Wolkonski. Iiatishonne was surprised at my
calmness ; he could not reconcile it with my
eager desire for his conversion, and he re-
marked that he was more than ever a Jew. I
answered that I was full of confidence in the
promises of God, and that I was convinced

MAJilE-ALPIIONSE RATISBONNE.

that, since he was honest and sincere,
would one day be a Catholic, even if an ang^l
from heaven were necessary to enlighten him.
We were then passing by the Scala Santa;
I took off my hat, and pointing to my compa-
nion, said, "Hail, Scala Santa, here is a man
who will one day ascend you on his kness."
Ratisbonne burst into a fit of laughter, and
we separated without my being able to in-
dulge the feeblest hope that I had, in any
degree, shaken his convictions. But I be-
lieved Him who hath said : Knocks and it
shall be opened to you. I returned to pray
beside the remains of my beloved friend ;
and as I knelt I asked him to aid in the
conversion of my young friend, if, as- I
hoped, he had already attained the rest of
the blessed.

Thursday, January 20<&, 1842.

Ratisbonne has not made the slightest ad-
vance towards the truth; his will is inflexi-
ble as ever, he turns every thing into ridi-
cule, and seems to mind only earthly tilings.
About noon he went into a cafe on the
Piazza di Spagna to read the newspapers.
There he found my brother in-law, Edmund
Humann; they chatted over the news of the
day with a flippancy and an ease which
excluded all idea of any serious preoccupa-
tion of mind.*

* It seems as if it had pleased Providence to order ai.

0^

34 THE CONVERSION OF

It was about one o'clock. I had to make
some arrangements at the church of S. An-
drea delle Fratte for the ceremony of the
morrow. But here is Ratisbonne coming
down 'the Via Condotti ; he will go with me,
wait for me a few minutes, and thea we
will continue our walk. We entered the
church. Ratisbonne noticed the preparations
for a funeral, and asked for whom they were
made. " For a friend I have just lost, and
whom I loved exceedingly, Mr. de Laferon-
nays." He then began to walk about the
nave, and his cold indifferent look seemed
to say, " This is certainly a very ugly
church." I left him on the epistle side ot
the church, to the right of a small enclo-
sure destined to receive the coffin, and went
into the convent.

I had only a few words to say to ox>.*», of
the monks — I wanted a tribune prepared
for the family of the deceased ; my absence
could not have been more than ten or twelve
minutes. '

When I came back into the church I sav/

things so as to exclude the possibility of doubt as to Ratis-
bonne's state of mind just before the unexpected grace of hia
conversion. About half-past twelve, as he came out of the
cafe, he met his friend the Baron de Lotzbeck, and enterod
into conversation with him on matters the most frivolous. Ho
spoke of dancing, of pleasure, of the fete given by Prince T.
Had a.ny one said to him at that moment, Within two hours
you iiitt be a CaiMic, he would certainly have thought him out
of his senses.

MARIE- ALPIIONSE EAlfSBONNfc. 35

nothing of Katisbonne for a moment; then
I caught sight of him on his knees, in front
of the chapel of S. Michael the Archangel.
I went up to him, and touched him three or
four times before he became aware of my
)resence. At length he turned towards me,

E

is face bathed in tears ; joined his hands,
and said, with an expression wdiich no words
will render : " Oh, how this gentleman has
prayed for me ! "

I was cpite petrified with astonishment;
I felt what people feel in presence of a mi-
racle. I raised Katisbonne, I led him, or
rather almost carried him, out of the church;
I asked him what was the matter, and where
he wished to go. "Lead me where you
please," cried he ; u after what I have seen
I obey." I urged him to explain his mean-
ing, but he could not; his emotion was too
mighty and profound. He drew forth from
his bosom the miraculous medal, and cov-
ered it with kisses and with tears. I
brought him back to his apartment ; and
notwithstanding my repeated questions, I
could get from him nothing but exclama-
tions, broken by deep sobs : " Oh, what bliss
is mine ! how good is the Lord ! what a ful-
ness of grace and of happiness ! how pitiable
the lot of those who know not ! " Then he
burst into tears at thought of heretics and
misbelievers. At length he asked me if I did
not think him mad. " But no " he exclaimed,

S6 THE CONVERSION OF

" I am in my right senses ; my God, my God,
T am not beside myself; every one knows that
I am not mad ! "

This wild emotion became gradually more
calm, and then liatisbonne threw his arms
around me and embraced me. His face was
radiant, I might almost say transfigured ; he
begged me to take him to a confessor ; wanted
to know when lie might receive holy baptism,
for now he could not live without it ; yearned
for the blessedness of the martyrs whose suf-
ferings he had seen depicted on the walls of
S. Stefan o Rotonclo. He told me that he
could give me no explanation of his state un-
til he had received permission from a priest
to do so ; u for what I have to say," he added,
" is something I can say only on my knees."

I took him immediately to the Gesu to see
Father de Yillefort, who begged him to ex-
plain himself. Then Katisbonne drew forth
his medal, , kissed it, showed it to us, and ex-
claimed : "I have seen her/ I have seen her! "
and his emotion again choked his utterance.
But soon he regained his calmness, and made
his statement. I give it in his own words :

" I had been but a few moments in the
church when I was suddenly seized witli an
unutterable agitation of mind. I raised my
eyes, the building had disappeared from be-
fore me ; one single chapel had, so to speak,
gathered and concentrated all the light ; and
in the midst of this radiance I saw standing

MARIE-ALPUONSE BATISBONNE. 37

on the altar lofty, clothed with splendours,
full of majesty and of sweetness, the Yirgin
Mary, just as she is represented on my medal.
An irresistible force drew me towards her;
the Yirgin made me a sign with her hand
that I should kneel down ; and then she
seemed to say, That will do! She spoke not
a word, but I understood all."

Brier as this statement is, Ratisbonne could
not utter it without pausing frequently to take
breath, and to. subdue the emotion with which
he was thrilling. We listened to him with a
sacred awe, mingled with joy and with grati-
tude, marvelling at the depth of the counsels
of God, and at the ineffable treasures of His
mercy. One word struck us especially by its
depth of mystery : She spoke not a woi'd, but
I understood all. Indeed, it was quite enough
to listen to Patisbonne ; the Catholic faith
exhaled from his heart like a precious perfume
from the casket, which contains it indeed, but
cannot confine it. He spoke of the Ileal Pre-
sence like a man who believed it with all the
energy of his whole being ; but the expression
is far too weak, he spoke like one to whom it
Was an object of direct perception.

On leaving Father de Yillefort, we went
to give thanks to God, first at S. Maria Mag-
giore, the favoured basilica of the Blessed
Yirgin, and then at S. Peter's.

It is impossible to convey an idea of the
transport of Patisbonne when he found him-

38 THE CONVERSION OF

self in these churches. " Ah," said he to me, as
he warmly pressed my hands, " now I under-
stand the love with which Catholics regard
their churches, and the piety which leads them
to embellish and adorn them ! . . . How good
it is to be here! one would long to go no more
out for ever ! . . . it is earth no longer, it is the
vestibule of heaven."

At the altar of the Blessed Sacrament, the
Real Presence of Jesus so overwhelmed him
that he was on the point of fainting ; and I
was obliged to lead him away, so awful did
it seem to him to appear before the living
God with the stain of original sin upon him.
He hastened to take refuge in the chapel of
the Blessed Virgin.* " Here," said lie to me,
" I can have no fear ; I feel myself under "the
protection of an illimitable mercy."

He prayed with great fervour at the tomb
of the holy apostles. The history of the con-
version of S. Paul, which I related to him,
made him shed tears abundantly.

He was astonished at the strength of the
posthumous bond, to use his own expression,
which united him to M. de Laferronnays ; he
wished to pass the night beside his remains —
gratitude, he said, made it a duty. But Father
de Yillefort, seeing that he was exhausted

* Many may be glad to remark, that M. Ratisbonne was
born in 1814, on the 1st of May, the month consecrated by
Catholic piety to the Mother of Divine Grace.

MARIE- ALPHONSE RAHSBONNE. 39

with fatigue, prudently opposed this pious
desire, and advised him not to remain later
than ten o'clock.

Ratisbonne then told us that the night
before he had not been able to sleep ; that
he had always before his eyes a large cross,
of a peculiar form, and without the image of
our Saviour. "I made," said he, " incredible
efforts to drive away this iigure ; but they
were all fruitless." Some hours later his eye
casually fell on the reverse of the miraculous
medal, and he recognised his cross.

Meanwhile I was impatient to return to the
family of M. de Laferronnays : I had such
consolation to give them, at the moment when
the venerated remains of him whom they be-
wa^ed were about to be taken from before
thei) eyes. I entered the chamber of death
in a state of agitation, I might almost say of
joy, which at once attracted the attention of
all present, and showed them that I had some-
thing of importance to communicate. They
all followed me into an adjoining room, and I
hastily related all that had passed.

I had brought them tidings from heaven.
Their tears of grief were in a moment changed
into tears of gratitude. These poor, smitten
hearts could now bear with perfect Christian
resignation that keenest of sacrifices, which
death, exacts, the last farewell to the remains of
him they had loved.

But I was eager to see again the son

40 THE CONVERSION OF

whom God had just given me ; he had begged
me not to leave him alone ; he felt that he
needed a friend into whose heart he could pour
out the unfathomable emotions of such a day.

I asked him again and again the circum-
stances of the miraculous vision. He was
quite unable to explain how he had passed
from the right side of the church to the chapel,
which is on the left, and from which he was
separated by the preparations that had been
made for the funeral service. All he knew
was, that he had found himself suddenly on
his knees, and prostrate close to this chapel.
At first he had been enabled to see clearly
the Queen of Heaven, in all the splendour of
her immaculate beauty ; but he could not
sustain the radiance of that divine light.
Thrice he had tried to gaze once more on the
Mother of Mercy ; thrice he proved his in-
ability to raise his eyes beyond her blessed
hands, from which there flowed, in luminous
rays, a torrent of graces.

" O my God ! v cried he, " I who but half
an hour before was blaspheming still ! I who
felt a hatred so deadly of the Catholic religion !
. . . But all who know me know well enough
that, humanly speaking, I have the strongest
reasons for remaining a Jew. My family is
Jewish, my bride is a Jewess, my uncle is a
Jew. . . . In bec^ozik^ a Catholic, I sacrifice
all the interest£<SjiLi$8^e hopes I have on
x&rtb ; and J0/1 anisS£k mad— every one

tot LIBRARY

MABIE-ALPHONSE EATISBONNE. 41

knows that I am not mad, that I have never
been mad ! Surely they must receive my tes-
timony."

Friday, January 2\st, 1842.

The news of this signal miracle began to
spread through Rome.* People were run-
ning from house to house, questioning one an-
other, relating to one another the imperfect
details they had been able to gather. It was
all in vain that, with customary caution, they
were on their guard lest they should receive
a statement so startling on insufficient tes-
timony. Doubt soon became impossible in
presence of facts so evident and so notorious.
Every one seemed to bless God for the
privilege of being in Rome at a time when
it had pleased Him to quicken our confidence
in the immaculate Yirgin, by attesting in so
wonderful a way the power of her intercession.
Every one longed to see and to question the
thrice-happy youth, for whom the Mother of
Divine Grace had descended from heaven to
earth.

* Yesterday morning, as wo were taking our c. occiate in
haste, before visiting S. Agnesefudri le Mure, our good Monica
came running in to tell us, in the joy of her heart, the news,
Un Ebreo e convertko ! — a Jew was converted yesterday ; yes,
here, in our church of S.Andrea delle Fratre ! Gesic mio! che
Id miraculo f We could not stay to hear more. In the eve-
ning this conversion was the topic of conversation at
Cardinal Pacca's ; and this morning I heard all the details of
this striking event. I met M. de Bussieres in the salon of tho
Countess K., and he was good enough to relate to us what he
has since published." — Gqume ; les trois Rome, ii. 173.
4*

4:2 THE CONVERSION OF

1 was -with Ratisbonne at Father Ville-
fort's, when General Chlapouski was intro-
duced. "Sir," said he, "so you have seen
the likeness of the Blessed Virgin ; tell me all
about it."

" The likeness, sir ! " cried Ratisbonne,
interrupting him ; " the likeness ! I have seen
her herself, in reality, in her own person,
just as I see you there before me."

I cannot refrain from observing here, that
even if we can imagine an illusion m the
case of a person of Ratisbonne's character
and education, with prejudices so violent,
and with such interests both of affection and
of position, it could not have been produced
or aided by any outward representation ; for
in the chapel which was the scene of the
miracle, there is no statue, or picture, or
image of the Blessed Virgin, of any kind.

I was anxious now that Ratisbonne should
be introduced to the family of M. de La-
ferronnays. The most critical event of his
life was so bound up with the bereavement
which weighed so sorely upon them, that it
seemed but right that he should alleviate
their sorrow, by telling them with his own lips
of the tie of everlasting gratitude wherewith
it had pleased God to link his soul with that
of their departed one. But he was too much
affected to talk consecutively; he could do
little more than press with an indescribable
agitation the hands which were stretched out

MARIE-ALPHONSE RATISBONNE. 43

to him, as to a brother or to a beloved child.
" Oh, believe me, believe my words," said he
repeatedly, when they questioned him ; " it is
to the prayers of M. de Laferronnays that I
owe my conversion."

Tiie new convert spent at my house the
few days that passed before the retreat, in
which lie was to be prepared for his baptism.
lie read me some parts of his letters to his
bride, to his uncle, to all the members of his
family ; so that I was enabled to read his
soul to its lowest depth. In onr private
conversations he recurred continually to the
manifest proofs, which ought to convince the
most sceptical, of the miraculous intervention
by which his conversion was effected, and of
his own perfect sincerity.

" The weightiest inducements," said he,
"the strongest interests, bound me to my
religion. A man has a claim to be believed
when he sacrifices every thing to a conviction
which must have come from heaven. . . If
allithat I have stated is not rigorously true,
I commit a crime, not only the most daring,
but the most senseless and motiveless. In
making my entrance into Catholicism by a
sacrilegious lie, I not only risk my position in
this world, but I lose my soul, and assume the
frightful responsibility of all those whom my
example may induce to do as I am doing.
And what interest can I have in this? Alas,
when my brother became a Catholic, and a

44 THE CONVERSION OF

priest, I persecuted him with a more unrelent-
ing fury than any other member of my family.
We were completely sundered ; I hated him
with a virulent hatred, though he had fully
pardoned me. At the time of my betrothal,
I said to myself that it was fitting that I
should be reconciled with my brother; I
wrote him a few cold lines, to which he re-
turned an answer full of tenderness and of
charity. . . .

" One of my nephews died eighteen
months ago. My brother, the abbe, wished
to baptise him ; when I knew it, I was in a
frenzy of rage. ... I trust that God may send
me the severest of tests, that His own glory
may be advanced, and that the world may
know that I am sincere."

And surely we cannot question the sin-
cerity and good faith of the man who, in his
twenty-eighth year, sacrifices all the joys of
Iris heart, all the hopes of his life, at the call
of conscience. For he knew well all the con-
sequences of his resolution; he knew that
Christianity is the worship of the Cross ;
again and again he had been told of the trials
which awaited him, and of the duties laid
upon him by the religion which he was so ea-
ger to embrace.

From the moment in which he requested
the sacrament of baptism, he was placed un-
der the care of the venerable father who rules
a society justly dear to every Christian. This

MARIE-ALPHONSE RATISBONNE. 45

good father, after hearing his story with his
wonted benignity, and at the same time with
calm gravity, had urged him to weigh well
the sacrifices he would be compelled to make,
the serious obligations he would have to fulfil,
the peculiar conflicts which awaited him, the
temptations and testing trials to which a step
like his would expose him ; and then, pointing
to a crucifix which stood on the table, he said :

" That cross which you saw in your sleep,
when once you have been baptised, yon
must not only worship it, but you must bear
it;" and then, opening the Holy Scriptures,
he turned to the second chapter of Ecclesias-
ticus. and read to Katisbonne these words:

" Son, when thou com est to the service
of God, stand in justice and in fear, and pre-
pare thy soul for temptation. Humble thy
heart and endure : incline thine ear, and re-
ceive the words of understanding : and make
not haste in the time of clouds. Wait
on God with patience ; join thyself to God,
and endure, that thy life may be increased
in the latter end. Take all that shall be
brought upon thee : and in thy sorrow endure,
and in thy humiliation keep patience. For
gold and silver are tried in the fire, but
acceptable men in the furnace of humilia-
tion. Believe God, and He will recover
thee : and direct thy way, and trust in Him.
Keep His fear, and grow old therein."

These divine words produced a deep im-

46 THE CONVEESI0N OF

pression on Batisbonne. Far from discour-
aging him, they strengthened his resolution,
and gave him very serious and sober ideas
of Christianity. He listened, however, in si-
lence; but at the close of the retreat which
preceded his baptism, he went in the evening
to see the holy priest who had read him these
words a week before, and begged for a copy
of them, that he might preserve them, and
meditate on them every day of his life.

Such are the facts which I submit to the
consideration of all thoughtful men. I have
related them artlessly, in (their own simpli-
city, in all their truthfulness ; for the edifica-
tion of those who believe, for the instruction
of those who are yet seeking the place of
their rest. And happy shall I deem myself,
if, after having wrandered long, too long, in
the gloom and amidst the contradictions of
Protestant sects, I may, by this simple nar-
rative, excite in some erring brother the wTill
to cry, with the blind man in the Gospel,
Zord, that my eyes may he opened I for every
one who truly prays will soon have his eyes
opened to the sunlight of Catholic truth.*

* " My brother, two hours after his conversion, was seen
by Cardinal Mezzofanti, who was ready to throw himself on
his knees in adoration to God. Nothing was known of my
brother at Rome, and at first great appi-ehensions were enter-
tained as to what his character might turn out to be. He
had never read two pages of the Bible, never received any religious
instruction whatever, was altogether of a light and superficial
character. The Blessed Virgin appeared to him as close as I

MARIE-ALPHONSE RATISBONNE. 47

THE BAPTISE!.

Monday, January Slst, 1812.

Those whose privilege it was to obtain ad-
mission to the church of the Jesuits to-day,
will not readily forget the ceremony which
has completed that extraordinary event which
still so profoundly affects the whole city, and
which publicly authenticated one of those
marvels of grace by which God would revive
the faith of the lukewarm, and allure into
the right way those who are yet walking in
darkness.

M. Eatisbonne has made to-day, in pre-
sence of the Cardinal Yicar, his profession of
the Catholic faith ; he has received holy bap-
tism, has been confirmed, and has made his
first communion.

Long before the appointed hour the church
of the Gesu, which had been chosen by the
Cardinal Vicar for the ceremony, was filled
with a pious crowd, eager to see this young
Jew, whom the immaculate Virgin herself has

am to you ; she made a motion to him that he should remain
quiet under the divine influence. On rising out of his ecstasy,
he had received intuitively t?*e knowledge of the Christian faith. . . .
I believe that he has more than once received a repetition of
the grace he had at Rome, but I have never asked him on the
subject. . . . My uncle is worth from six to seven millions of
francs ; he has disinherited my brother, who has renounced
eveiy thing.

" M. l'Abbk Thkodork Ratisbonne."

A lliei Journal in France, p. 44.

48 THE CONVERSION OF

deigned to bring to the foot of the cross.
There were present also many of those wan-
dering sheep, those carious persons who long
to see every thing that is novel and striking ;
but a contagious reverence pervaded the con-
gregation, and all hearts were for a time
fused into a oneness ot emotion by the in-
terest and awe inspired by the distinguished
proselyte.

Prudent precautions had been taken to
preserve that degree of order which was ne-
cessary for the common edification of all.
The space between the altar of St. Ignatius
and that of St Francis Xavier was prepared
for the accommodation of the large assem-
blage ; and although there were no places
reserved, the zeal of true Catholics had fore-
stalled the eagerness of the merely curious,
and thrown around the altar the protection
of their reverent silence and devout prayers.

About half-past eight M. Ratisbonne,
clothed in the white robe of a catechumen,
was led in by the reverend Father Villefort,
who had prepared him for baptism, and by
Baron Theodore de Bussieres, his sponsor,
and took his place in the chapel of St. An-
drew, near the principal entrance of the-
church.* During the half-hour which fol-

* " To-day we took part in. a ceremony, or rather an
event, the memory of which will never fade away from
my heart — the baptism of M. Ratisbonne. Ten days only
had passed since his conversion ; bnt the marvellous neophyte

MARIE-ALPHONSE RATISBONNE. 40

lowed, he was naturally the object of general
curiosity; but he endured with perfect re-
signation this severe test, so trying at a mo-
ment when his heart was heaving with the
yearning presentiments of a new life. From
time to time he fervently pressed the rosary
which he held in his hand, or gazed on the me-
dal attached to it, as if to seek in the thought
of her whose intercession had saved him, the
strength and courage he so much needed.

At nine o'clock, his Eminence Cardinal
Patrizi, Yicar of his Holiness, began to recite
the prayers prescribed in the ritual for the
baptism of adults. There are found psalmf
which seem as though they had been written
expressly to clothe with words the feelings o±
the catechumen, and to tell out the way in
which the Lord had been pleased to call him
to the truth. For so wondrous is the depth
of the Holy Scriptures, that every one find?
in them the expressions which render mosl
aptly the ever-varying experience of his soul,
and the manifold circumstances of his inner
life.

had understood all, and the illustrious Cardinal Mezzofanti, who
is charged with the examination of catechumens, was amazed
at the plenitude of light which the Father of lights had so in-
stantaneously poured into this privileged soul. . . . What p
spectacle ! M. de Bussieres, a converted Protestant, leading
a Jew into the hosom of a Catholic Church ! and what a Jew !
a jeune France of eight-and-twenty, in all the fulness of his
powers, his reason, and his self-will; but yesterday godless,
mocking, hlaspheming, and to-day gentle as a lamb, . . ."—
Gaume ; les trovi Rome, ii. 220.
5

50 THE CONVERSION OF

And what could paint more vividly the
troubled and weary heart of the young Jew,
as he beheld the enchantment pass away from
the face of earth, and was sad amidst the
pleasures of his favoured position ? Why art
thou cast down, 0 my soul? Poor stricken
soul, in vain dost thou shift thine horizon, and
seek the distraction of thy sadness in other
and strange lands ; still will thy tears be thy
bread day and night, for there is no resting-
place for the exile, — for day by day it is said
to thee, in thy secret heart, where is now thy
God? But hope thou in God; for soon shalt
thou confess His Holy Name, and find the
heart's true rest, the balm for every wound :
hope thou in God ; for Twill still give praise
to Him,) the salvation of my countenance, and
my God. Think, that in His own appointed
time He hath sent unto thee the Mother of
mercies : in the day-time the Lord' hath com-
manded, His mercy. Hope thou, Ihen, in
God ; fear no longer to draw near m.^ the
tabernacle of awe wherein lies hidden the
Holy of Holies ; say thou rather in thin<»
heart, and I will go in to the altar of God;
He alone can slake my soul's deep thirst.
Thou feelest now the hideousness of sin, of
thine own inherited taint; when shall I come,
when shall I enter the sacred ark, out of
which is no salvation? when may I cast myself
down before the face of my God ? when shall
I come and appear before the presence of God?

MAKIE-ALPHONSE RATISBONNE. 51

Like as the hart panteth after the fountains of
water, so longeth my soul for the hallowed
streams of baptism, so thirsteth my sou] for
God, the spring and fount of all strength and
of all life.

When these preliminary prayers were said,
his Eminence proceeded in procession to the
lower end of the church. There Father Vil-
lefort and M. de Bussieres presented to him
the young Jew. " What cravest thou of the
Church of God? " " Faith." And this faith,
this holy Catholic faith, it was his already;
the bright and morning star had already risen
upon him, and enlightened him with its clear
shining. And thus, when commanded to
" detest the perfidy of the Jews, to put away
with contempt the superstition of the He-
brews," he knew not a moment's hesitation,
and the meek firmness of his replies showed
that he was not unworthy of the boon the
Church accorded him, in abridging for him
the tests appointed for catechumens.

Already has the bishop breathed thrice
upon him to put to flight the spirit of evil ;
he has marked him with the Christian's
characteristic mark, the venerable sign of
the cross, on his forehead, on his eyes, on
his ears, on his breast, on his shoulders ; in
order to impress upon the new-born Chris-
tian that it was henceforth his duty to hallow
to Christ his intelligence and his heart, and
to bear with loving readiness the yoke of

52 THE CONVERSION OF

the cross. He lias given him to taste the
salt of wisdom, and has said over him the
prayers of exorcism. The neophyte is pros-
trate on the threshold of the temple — a
last, surest evidence of submission, a last,
unlooked-for test is applied, " Kiss the dust ;"
and calmly and unhesitatingly he obeys.
There is no doubt that he is a Christian indeed,
for his heart has intuitively discerned that hu-
mility is the strait gate which leadeth to truth
and to salvation. Lesson of wondrous elo-
quence for us all, who are but too prone to
forget that Jesus our Master was meek and
lowly in heart.

There is no doubt; the mind that was in
Christ is in this candidate for Christ's service
too, for he is lowly and submissive. The
Church hesitates no longer; she looks upon
him, she treats him as her own beloved child.
She remembers no more his life in times past,
nor his blasphemies of yesterday ; she beholds
in him only the privileged child of Mary's
adoption. The bishop places the end of his
stole in his hand, in token of adoption, to
teach him that in the Catholic family the
children must lean trustfully on their fathers ;
and thus he leads, as in triumph, this beloved
sheep of the fold, snatched from the jaws of
the destroyer, to the altar of St. Ignatius.

But how shall we render justice to the
emotion of the congregation as Ratisbonne
passed before them ? His face characterised

MARIE-ALPHONSE KATISBONNE. 53

by a happy blending of decision and of gen-
tleness, his long beard, his measured step, hia
white garment, every thing carried them back
in thought to the days of the primitive Church
— the Church of the catacombs.

Some worthy Koman women, who were
crushing me in order to see more clearly, well
expressed in their own simple way the brother-
ly charity which animated all who were pre-'
sent : Ah, quanto sei caro ! ah, heato lui ! and
then they kissed their rosaries as if to thank
the cause of our joy for this triumph of grace.

Then they pointed with affectionate curi
osity to him whom God deigned to use to pre-
pare His wTay before His face : " See he is a
Frenchman — it wTas he who gave the medal to
the Jew, who made him pray to the Blessed
Virgin. Ma che buon signore ! che Dio le bcr^
edica ! " And we too repeated their words,
and said in our deepest hearts: May God
bless him, and all that are his!

And now the bishop is standing near the
altar, and the catechumen kneels before him
to receive the sacred waters of baptism. He
is asked his name. "Marie," is his reply,
with an outburst of gratitude and of love;
Marie ! the thrice-blessed name of the Queen
of Patriarchs, who has opened to him the
gates of the Church, and will open for him
those of heaven — the everlasting gates.

"What crave you?"

" Baptism."
5*

54 THE CONVERSION OF

" Do you renounce the devil \ "

" I renounce him.

" And all his pomps ? "

u I renounce them."
• " And all his works ? "

" I renounce them."

"Do you believe in God the Father Al-
mighty, Creator of heaven and earth ? "
H " I believe in Him."

" Do you believe in Jesus Christ His only
Son our Lord, who was born and who suffered
for us?"

I believe in Him."

" Do you believe in the Holy Ghost, the
Holy Catholic Church, the Communion of
Saints, the remission of sins, the resurrection of
the flesh, and the life everlasting ? "

" I do believe."

The tone and accent of deepest conviction
with which this child of Mary pronounced
this profession of the Catholic faith, produced
on all present an impression which still thrills
throughout their whole being.

" And now, what desirest thou ? "

" Baptism."

At length that sacred flood whose waters
spring up unto everlasting life, has come
down upon that brow so lowly bent ; Marie
Ratisbonne rises up a Christian, — a Christian
pure and fervent as are the angels who stand
about the throne of God.

MAKIE-ALPHONSE RATISBONNE. 55

He holds in his hand the blessed taper,
whose flame betokens that light of submissive
faith which wavers not nor misleads. The
laying on of hands and the unction with holy
chrism impart to him a second grace, in con-
firming the fulness of that which he has al-
ready received. Henceforward Ratisbonne is
a disciple of the cross ; he is prepared to confess
aloud to all the faith of that Jesus who gave
Himself for us.

And then M. l'Abbe Dupanloup* ad-
dressed to the congregation some of those
glowing words which rise so readily from
his heart when he has to tell of the good-
ness of our God, or of the loving power of
Mary. We give a few fragments — frag-
ments, alas ! very incomplete and very weak
— of this fervid improvisation. The sacred
orator avowed before all his full and entire
faith in the miraculous intervention of Mary,
in the sudden conversion for which they
were now blessing God; avoiding, as be-
seemed a submissive son of the Church, every
expression which might even seem to an-
ticipate the regular decision of the one only
competent authority on a question of mirac-
ulous agency.

* Now Bishop of Orleans.

56 THE CONVERSION OF

EXTRACTS FROM THE DISCOURSE OF M. DITPANLOTJP.

The providence of God is wondrous in all its
designs and in all its methods, and deeply
are they to be pitied who can neither com-
prehend nor extol it. For them the life of
man is but a mournful mystery ; his days
but a chain whose links are twined by fate ;
and man himself but a creature, noble in-
deed, but accursed in every faculty, thrust
forth far from heaven upon this earth of
tears and lamentation, to live in gloom, to
die in despair, utterly forgotten by a God
who heeds neither his virtues nor his sor-
rows. . . But, O my God, Thou art not thus
unheeding, neither hast thou thus fashioned
us ; notwithstanding our profound and infinite
misery, we are not to this extent miserable:
Thy providence still keepeth watch over us ;
higher than highest heavens, deeper far and
wider than the great and wide sea ; it is an
abyss unfathomable, of power, and wisdom, and
of love Thou hast made us for Thy-
self, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until
they find rest in Thee. There is within us
a sense of need, deep, infinite, which sways

our whole souls, which devours us, and

whenever we follow the instinctive tendency

of this mighty want we surely find Thee

I bless Thee, above all, I adore Thee for
that from Thy lofty and eternal dwelling-place

MARIE-ALPHONSE KATISBONNE. 57

Thou dost remember, and remember with
compassion, the creatures Thy hand hath
formed ; for that from Thy heavens Thou
dost design a look of pity and of love on
us, the lowliest product of Thine almighty
hand ; for that, as saith the Prophet, Thou
dost shake the heavens and the earth, and
multiply Thy prodigies, in order to save
those whom Thou lovest so well .... to sub-
due to Thyself one solitary soul

And you, on whom every eye is now
turned with unutterable tenderness — for it
is God, it is the mercy of God, that we see
and love in you — you, whose presence here
inspires my thoughts — tell us what were your

thoughts and the ways of your heart,

by what hidden ways of mercy the Lord has
followed you, brought you back

For who are you ? what is your petition
in this holy place ? what homage do you come
to pay? what means that robe of stainless
white you bear? Tell us whence you came,
and whither your steps were bent? and what
power has so suddenly changed your pur-
poses ? . . . . Tell us how, like Abraham, your
great ancestor, — Abraham, whose true son you
have this day become, — you were going on,
following the voice of the Lord, but not know-
ing whither you went; your eyes yet sealed
in darkness until you reached the Holy City.

The work of the Lord has not yet

reached its accomplishment ; but it is yours to

58 THE CONVERSION OF

tell us by what degrees the Sun of truth and
of justice arose upon your soul, — what was its

glowing dawn Why is it that you feel

with us, more keenly perhaps than we feel,
the good word of grace, the powers of the
world to come, and all our hopes so full of
blessedness? .... Tell us, for we have the
right to ask, why do you thus enter into our
possession, as into your own heritage? Who
has placed you thus at home in our midst? for
yesterday you were but a stranger and a so-
journer with us ; we knew you not — or rather
we knew you

Here let' me utter all ; for I know what
joy I shall infuse into your heart in setting up
this memorial of your misery, and of the mer-
cies of our God.

You loved not the truth, though He who
is the truth loved you ; you resisted the efforts
of the most fervid and the purest zeal with a
smile of disdain, or a contemptuous silence,
or a subtle quibble, or a haughty demand of
overwhelming evidence, and, alas ! with blas-
phemous jests. O God most patient ! O Thou
who lovest us in spite of our sins and our mis-
eries ! Thy mercy has oftentimes a depth, a
sublimity, a tenderness, a might and a de-
licacy, which are to us infinite and incom-
prehensible.

Suddenly a rumour spreads throughout the
Holy City, and diffuses consolation through-
out all Christian hearts. He who yesterday

MAEIE-ALPHONSE KATISBONNE. 59

was a blasphemer, who, even this very morn-
ing, ridiculed the friends of God — he preacheth
the Gospel — grace from above has been poured
upon his lips ; from his mouth proceed only
blessing and words of gentleness ; the keenest
light of faith has shone on his eyes ; the unc-
tion of the Holy One has taught him all
things. Whence has he acquired those en-
lightened eyes of the soul, which see all,
which have understood all f O God, Thou art
good ; Thy goodness is infinite ; and I love to
repeat those gracious words which we heard
so recently from the blessed lips of him whose
memory can never fade away from our hearts ;
— we made lamentation for him but a few days
since, but now we regret him indeed, yet we
cannot grieve for him : " Yes, Thou art good,
and the children of men have done well to
call Thee the good God." * Thou shakest the
laws of nature ; Thou deemest nothing too
great for the salvation of Thy children. When
Thou comest not Thyself, Thou sendest Thine

angels Thine angels, did I say ? . . . O

my God, shall I speak? a reverent reserve
should close my lips — but qitw est ista — who
is this? Silence and speech are alike impos-
sible.

Hail Mary, full of grace ! and thou lovest
to shower down on us the plenitude of thy
mother's heart. The Lord is with thee ! It

* The last words of M. de Laferronnavs.

60 THE CONVERSION OF

is through thee that lie has been pleased to
come down even unto us. And now it behooves
me to borrow the kindling utterances of pro-
phets, or to range" the courts of heaven in quest
of images to set forth .thy dignity and thy
praise. For, O Mary, thy name is sweeter to
us than earth's purest joy, sweeter than its
choicest odours, ravishing beyond the har-
mony of angels, in corcle jubilus / sweeter to
the believing heart than the honeycomb to
the lips of the wTeary traveller, mel in lingua;
more helpful and gentler to the guilty heart,
when it repents, than is the dew of evening
to the leaves which the scorching heats of
noon have withered, ros in herbd. Thou art
fair as the orb of night, pvlohra ut luna y and
it is thou who settest again in the right way
the feet of the wandering traveller ; thou art
brilliant as the dawn, aurora conmrgens; mild
and pure as the star of morn, stella matutina;
and it is thou who dost herald the rising of
the Sun of justice in our hearts.

O Mary, I fail in power to show forth thy
greatness and thy manifold claims to our love,
and it is a joy to me to sink back overpowered
by a glory so vast. But since I am speaking
in the congregation of thy children, who are
also my brethren, I will utter without fear
the thoughts of my heart in regard of thy
praise.

At thy name, O Mary, the heavens rejoice,
and earth sings for gladness of heart, while

MARIE- ALPHONSE RATISBONNE. 61

hell shudders in impotent wrath. None can
truly invoke thine aid and perish. The stately
temples reared by mighty nations, the gold,
the banners wrought by royal hands, and the
humble thank-offerings laid by the manner
on the threshold of some lowly chapel, the
homage of highest art and the rude image
traced by martyr hands on some wall of the
catacombs, — all alike attest thy power to still
every storm that perils the heart of man, and
to draw down on us the mercy of our God.
Mary, I have seen the wildest spots of earth
smile at thy name and put on gracefulness;
the pious dwellers in the far-off wilderness
sing thy glories ; the echoing mountains and
the ever-sounding torrents are vocal with thy
praises. I have seen, in earth's most stately
cities, the purest and noblest virtues flourish
under the shadow of thy name; I have seen
the thought of thee and the pure joy of thy
feasts preferred to earth's most winning fasci-
nations I have seen old men, after

sixty, eighty years of a life void of faith and
of virtue, rise on the bed of sickness; remem-
ber, at sound of thy name, the God who had
crowned their infancy with blessings ; and
thou didst beam upon their dying eyes as a

pledge of safety ancl of everlasting peace

O Mary, who art thou, then ? Quce est istaf
Thou art the Mother of our Saviour ; and Je-
sus God over all, blessed for evermore, is the
fruit of thy womb ; thou art our sister, soror
Q

62 THE CONVERSION OF

nostra es / daughter of Adam, thou hast no
part in our fatal heritage, and our woes elicit
thy deepest, tenderest commiseration.

O Mary, thou art the noblest creation of
.lie power of God. Thou art the most winning
device of His goodness. Thou art the sweet-
est smile of His mercy. O God, open the
eyes of those who see not, that they may see
Mary, and know the sweet radiance of her
mother's e#yes. Touch the hearts which love
her not ; for to faith there is but one step from
Mary to the Eternal Word, to that beauty
ever old, yet ever new ; to that uncreated
light which healetli our blinded eyes and sat-
istieth our largest desires, from Mary to Jesus,
from the Mother to the Son.

Brother well-beloved, — and I am happy
in being the first to greet }^ou by this name, —
you see under what favourable auspices you
make your entry into this new Jerusalem,
which is the dwelling-place of God, — into the
Church of the living God, which is the pillar

and ground of the truth But before

I allow your heart to expand to the fulness of
joys which await it, there is a solemn lesson
for you to-day ; and, as I am the first to cause
you to hear the joyful sound of the Gospel, I
dare not hide from you its most austere teach-
ing. You have understood all, you tell us ;
but permit me to ask you, have you under-
stood the mystery of the cross ? Take

good heed —it is the basis and ground-work
of Christianity.

MAEIE-ALPHONSE KATISBONNE. 63

I do not mean now that hallowed cross
which you lovingly revere, because it brings
before you Jesus crucified in expiation of
ypur sins. Let me borrow the energetic lan-
guage of an ancient apologist of our faith, and
say to you : We are not now concerned with
the cross which it is so blessed to revere, but
of that cross which you must learn to bear.
JEcce crucesjam non adorandce, sed subeiindw.
This is what you must thoroughly understand,
if you are a Christian ; and this is what your
baptism has already taught you

Moreover, it were vain to attempt to
conceal it, it can scarcely be that your fu-
ture life should offer you no cross to be
borne. I see them preparing ; undoubtedly
you must revere them from afar, but there
is something better than that — you must ac-
cept them when they come near and endure
them with good courage. I am greatly de-
ceived if patience be not the appointed
means of increasing and strengthening your
faith, and enabling you to bring forth its
fruits. And bless God for it. You have
been brought within the Christian Church
by Mary and by the Cross. It is an intro-
duction of good augury. Blessed be God
for it! for I know lie has given you ears
to hear and a heart to understand this lan-
guage. Son of the Catholic Church, you
will share the destiny of your Mother!
Look out on Eome, the spot on which you

64: THE CONVERSION OF

have-1 just been new-born unto God ! Conti-
nuous conflict and continuous triumph — this
is her earthly heritage ; and thus nothing
appals by its novelty, after eighteen cen-
turies of warfare and of victory

It is at the very centre of Catholic unity,
at the footstool of the highest apostolical
chair, whence flash forth the keenest purest
rays of the faith to pierce the darkness of
paganism, heresy, and Judaism, that the
Church has poured on your brow the sav-
in<>- stream of regeneration. It is Peter him-
self, that Moses of the new law, worthily
represented by the first vicar of his illus-
trious successor, who has smitten for yon
the rock of wonder, the immovable stone :
Petra erat Ckristus, whence flows that wa-
ter which springe th up unto eternal life. It
is in the living flame of the Holy Ghost
that you have been baptised : Spiritu Sancto
et igne. The splendours of the noblest cer-
emonies of our religion fall full upon you,
and we who are round about you catch
some gleams of their glory. It is to-day
your Pentecost, and the Spirit of might and
of love hath filled your heart! It is to-day
your Paschal time, and Jesus Christ is about
to feed you with His sacred Flesh and with
His precious Blood. It is He Himself whom
you will receive, really, substantially, and
truly ; your faith, your emotion, the tears
which stream from your eyes, anticipate all

MARIE-ALPIIONSE EATISBONNE. 65

I would say. Fear not that I shall weary you
now with long and iusipid exposition and
proof of a truth which it is your high blessed-
ness to believe. I will say but one word,
which you will feel to be true, — Jesus Christ
is far too truly our God and our friend that
He should feed our souls with an empty
figure, and cheat our love with a baseless il-
lusion ; besides, we need Him thus ; for He
commands us to love Him so as to be ready
to lay down our lives for Him, and the Di-
vine Eucharist has ever been the food and the
strength of martyrs. Hear what Christian
antiquity hath believed and hath handed
down

But I pause, for I am retarding your
blessedness. Now, at this moment, the eyes
of heaven look lovingly down upon you, and
earth gives you its added blessing, and Je-
sus Christ awaits you. Go forward, then —
the angels of God have begun this glad re-
joicing, and the children of God echo it
along here in earth ; and he who seemed to
our eyes to die, and whose spirit liveth in
the hands of the Lord, you know that his
desires and his prayers have not been want-
ing— the solemn moment is come.

Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, patriarchs
and prophets cheer you on from out of hea-
ven; and Moses gives you his blessing, be-
cause the law written in your heart hath
met and recognised the Gospel; mercy and
6*

66 THE CONVERSION OF

truth uphold you, justice and peace compass
you round about, repentance and innocence
crown you with gladness; and it is Mary
who receives you and who protects you.

O Mary, it is an imperious want of our
hearts, no less than a duty, to utter yet
once again the prayer to which we owe, it
may be, the consolations of this happy day.
And throughout this vast assembly, behold,
with one heart and one voice we say :

" Remember, O Mary, Yirgin most piti-
ful, that it has never been heard from old
time that any one who has fled to thy pro-
tection, implored thine aid, and sought thine
intercesson, has been left desolate. Groan-
ing beneath the burden of our sins, we
come, O Yirgin of virgins, to cast ourselves
into thine arms. O Mother of the Word,
remember now those who stand in grace,
those who are in sin ; remember now those
who know thee, and those who know thee
not; remember now all our miseries, and
all thy tender pity. I will not say : Re-
member this youth; for he is thy child, and
the blessed and glorious conquest of thy
love ; but I will say to thee : Remember
those friends so dear, for whom he offers
thee this day the first prayers of his Catho-
lic heart ; restore them to him in time, restore
them to him in eternity

And since I am a stranger here, — but
no, there are no strangers at Rome — every

MARIE-ALPHONSE RATISBONNE. 67

Catholic is a Roman, — but since we were
both born on the soil of France, I know
that I do but give utterance to the desires
of all hearts here present when I say to
thee : Remember France : it has still noble
virtues, generous souls, heroic self-devoted-
ness. Bring back again upon the Church
of France the fair beauty of the days of old.

The holy sacrifice of the Mass closed the
ceremony. It was scarcely possible to wit-
ness without a quickening of faith, the fervour
with which the new convert prayed, and the
silent recollectedness with which all the con-
gregation united their prayers to his. It was
especially at the solemn moment of com-
munion that our Lord seemed to pour down
His sweetness and His graces upon the pious
multitude. Our dear brother Ratisbonne
was so annihilated by his consciousness of the
Divine Presence, that it was necessary to sup-
port him as he drew near to the holy table ;
and after having received the Bread of angels,
he was unable to rise without the aid of Fa-
ther Villefort and of his sponsor. His tears
flowed abundantly ; he was quite overcome
by the deptli and complexity of his emotions,
and by the ineffable graces with which our
Lord tilled his soul.

To see this young man, but a few days
before an obstinate Jew, and now a Catholic

68 THE CONVERSION OF

glowing with faith and charity, one could not
help saying to one's self; O Lord, Thou art
wonderful in all Thy works. And the pro-
found exclamation of the convert was ever
present to our thoughts : I understood all.

A large number of persons gave the young
convert the truest proof of their brotherly
love, by following him to the holy table.
This pious -communion in our Lord was most
edifying, and gave to the whole ceremony a
character of fervour and of love.

In this sacred banquet, in which the
chosen friends of God celebrated the ever-new
miracle of his mercy, every heart was joined
in love to the family that was sorrowing be-
neath the visitation of God's hand. The
thought of the beloved and venerable man
whose departure from earth they mourned,
threw a reflection of the heavenly glory over
this pious solemnity. 0, how this gentleman
has prayed for me ! were Ratisbonne's words,
at the moment when the veil fell from his
eyes, and when he knew nothing of this fer-
vent Christian but that he had passed from
earth. O Lord, I adore the depth of Thy
councils. The prophet-king asked of old;
Shall the dust of the tomb give thanks unto
Thy name, and declare Thy truth? Yes,
Lord, for Thou hast heard the prayer of the
righteous man, and Thou hast poured down
with full hands Thy consolations, into the
wounds and sorrows of earth, that we may

MARIE-ALPHONSE EATISBONNE. 69

learn to give glory to Thy name ; and not al-
low ourselves to sink into despondency ; Ut
cantct tibi gloria mea, et non com/punger.

And now it was finished and done. Rat-
isbonne has been admitted to all the joys, to
all the graces of Catholic life. Blessed be
God who hath given us yet another brother}
the voice of joy and of thanksgiving is in the
dwellings of the just ; the song of triumph
peals to the vault of the temple ; the re-
strained emotion of every heart finds utter-
ance. Te Deum laudanvus ! we praise Thee,
O God ! shouted the congregation in one
ecstatic burst : we praise Thee. And then
we began to feel, with a thrill of joyful mirth,
what is the communion of saints. Those
manifold voices, mingled in one triumphal
shout of gratitude, gave us a foretaste of the
blessedness of heaven. The heart that could
remain cold and unmoved amidst the enthusi-
asm of this sublime shout was surely not the
heart of a Catholic.

After the Te Deum, the cardinal led the
new-born child of the Church into the house
of the Jesuits : and it is said, that when they
had left the sacred building, he could not
constrain his emotion, but pressed to his
heart with paternal tenderness him whose
feet he had set in the way of life.

Ratisbonne's joy was indescribable. Sur-
rounded by a crowd of persons eager to see
him, to hear him, to embrace him, he received

70 THE CONVERSION OF

the congratulations of all with a bounding
gladness of heart at being now a son of the
holy Catholic family.

An eye-witness relates, that when at length
lie retired to the cell he had occupied during
his retreat, liis first act was to prostrate him-
self before his crucifix, to thank the Saviour
of the world for the graces which had been
vouchsafed to him.

And as for those whose privilege it was to
be present at this glorious ceremony, they
went away with this consoling truth graven
on their immost hearts : that when a man seeks
God sincerely, He soon cometh, even though
a miracle be needed to make plain His wTay
before Him.

When God, in His fatherly tenderness,
bestows on His children some of those ex-
traordinary favours which rekindle faith and
fxood the heart with a love passing all under-
standing, they feel as if they would make here
their tents amidst the delights of this interior
joy, and prolong and retain all that has con-
tributed to it — all that may perpetuate it.

In order to satisfy the pious desire of de-
vout souls, we will linger yet awhile beside
the happy child of Mary; we will follow his
steps and listen to his words from the thrice-
blessed day when he was united to us by par-
faking of the holiest of mysteries, to the time
when this account is given to the world.

MARIE- ALPHONSK RATISBONNE. 71

And lie, too — he longed to abide on that
Thabor. Object of such rare and abundant
grace; having thrown far from him, like a
garment worn out, the miseries of his past life ;
adorned in that baptismal innocence, which,
alas, so soon contracts stain in the world, lie
pined for solitude, dreaded the throng of men,
evaded the eager curiosity of all, and, as it were,
set a seal upon his heart, lest any of the trea-
sures confided to him by God should be lost.

He manifested, then, a great desire to
pass in retreat the days of dissipation which
were drawing near. With what eye would lie
gaze upon the fond pleasures and vain joys of
earth ; he, to whom it had been given to gaze
upon the mystic Rose, upon that fairest Flower
of Heaven, and who, in the fervour of his
nascent faith, in the deep joy of his grati-
tude and love, was learning how sweet the
Lord is !

But before entering upon this fresh retreat,
which could be but an uninterrupted song of
thanksgiving, there remained one duty to be
discharged, one new happiness to be enjoyed.
Having become the child of the Church, he
yearned for the moment when he might be
allowed to cast himself at the feet of the ve-
nerable Pontiff, who guides with so sure a
hand, through the raging storm and wind, the
bark which bears us all towards the heavenly
haven.

We have heard the touching details o

72 THE CONVERSION OF

this interview ; and that we may make our
readers partakers of oiir joy, we must seek an
illustration from the most precious memories
of Catholicism.

Those who have visited the catacombs will
remember, that at every step they met the
image of the Good Shepherd bearing back to
the fold the wandering sheep ; they will have
remarked the expression of satisfied love, of
fatherly tenderness, which the simple art of
the first ages has rendered so truly. Let them
now recall the feelings excited by this ever-
recurring image, and then they may form
some idea of this touching scene.

M. Ratisbonne and M. Theodore de Bus-
sieres were introduced to his Holiness by the
reverend father the General of the Company
of Jesus. After the customary genuflexions,
they received that mighty benediction which
Catholics prize so highly.

The bo*y Father conversed with them for
some time, and gave them many precious
tokens of his affection, with all the frank and
tender love of a father. He gave directions
that they should be taken to see the interior
of his palace. Pushing them before him,
with a gracious familiarity, he led them into
his bedchamber. Then the venerable succes-
sor of the Prince of the Apostles gave them a
touching evidence of his own trust in the
protection of her whom the Church invokes
as the Help of Christians ; he showed them an

MAEIE-ALPHONSE EATISBOXNE. 73

image of the Blessed Yirgin which he reveres
with an especial devotion, and which is placed
close to his bed. And then, wishing that M.
Eatisbonne should preserve some memorial of
his visit, his Holiness gave him, with his own
hands, a crucifix to which special indulgences
were attached.

And if, when the days of trial and of con-
flict come, the new soldier of the faith shall
need to refresh his courage, let him remem-
ber the sacred standard which the visible
head of the Church then placed in his youth-
ful hands ; and, beholding his crucifix, let him
say .confidently, In hoc signo vinccs.

Perhaps M. Eatisbonne will leave us be-
fore he has time to take root in this land of
promise. It is so delightful to see one's fam-
ily after a long absence, to embrace a bro-
ther who has preceded one in the way of the
Lord. Far from weakening the heart's true
ties, the Gospel sanctifies them and draws
them closer ; its most faithful disciples will
ever be, in all that is not opposed to the law
of God, the most tender of sons, the most de-
voted of friends.

If, then, Providence remove him too soon
from our brotherly affection, let him go,' like
another apostle, fresh from the upper chamber,
and manifest in his own country and in his
father's house his new virtues, and exert the
7

74 THE CONVERSION OF

gentle constraint of his prayers, and diffuse
the fragance and the grace of his youthful
soul, which, born but yesterday into Catholic
life, is still adorned with all the charms of in-
fancy.

The earliest longings, the first thoughts of
his heart, were for the regeneration of his
brethren. Well, the Lord has read his secret
heart, and has blessed him in regenerating
that heart. In whatever way it may please
God to lead him, our tender prayers will go
with him, to draw down, upon him the grace
of perseverance; that the Author of every
good and perfect gift may endue him with
strength for the fight, with patience in the
trial, with humility in the flush of victory, and
a glowing charity.

Every young life is exposed to storm ; hap-
pier than we are, he has been crowned before
the conflict; but ther evil days will come.
May he then remember his brethren at Rome !
May he never forget Mary, his mother !

MAEIE-ALPHONSE RATISBONNE. 75

BAPTISM OF M. MAKIE-ALPHONSE RATISBONNE.
Extract from the letter of an eye-witness.

Paris, February 2d, 1842.

A few weeks since a stranger arrived in
Rome. He was young and rich ; lie has all
the habits of that elegance, all the tastes of
that brilliant frivolity, which education and
fortune impart to young men of his age and
stamp. He asks nothing of Italy but to be
lulled by the soft languors of her winters, and
some rays of the sun of her antique glory, of
the deathless splendour of her sky and of her
summers, the ever-fresh charm of her old
memories, and the fragance of poetry which
exhales from her ruins, hallowed by great
deeds and by great men. ... In the secret
heart of this young man there is one more se-
rious thought, one profound and impetuous
energy of feeling ; he is a Jew, and he views
Catholicism with all the prejudices and hatred
of his race — with a hatred at once keen, im-
placable, and sombre/ he even avoids Rome
altogether. Still he has come thither, in his
own despite almost ; but he has scarcely arrived
when he numbers the days for his departure.
He has witnessed the moral degradation of
his co-religionists, who are restrained to the

76 THE CONVERSION OF

filthiest quarter of the city — lie charges it on
the Catholics ; and his hatred finds expression
in bitter sarcasms, in horrible blasphemies.
The very morning of the day fixed for his de-
j)artiire he wrote to his nncle : " I leave this
city with a profound horror, and curse it as I

go " And that very day, a few hours

later, this same young man casually enters a
lonely church, falls on his knees overwhelmed
and annihilated, rises bathed in tears, and
asks for a Catholic priest, not to receive in-
struction, but to be baptised : his conversion
was accomplished — he had understood all.
What, then, had taken place in this church ?
What has he seen? what has he heard? I
can tell you, for all Rome is vocal with it.
But these are things belonging to an order so
high and so holy, that it is the prerogative of
the Church alone to utter them with the in-
fallible warrant of her word. She will speak,
and you will soon know all. So far as I am
concerned, I will only relate to you to-day,
without one touch of exaggeration, the facts
of this conversion just as it happened, just as
it struck me. It would be in itself an inex-
plicable miracle, even if a miracle had not
been its efficient cause.

Mr. Alphonse Ratisbonne belongs to one
of the chief Jewish families of Strasburg.
Now, as if to accumulate moral impossibilities
in the way of his conversion, God has per-
mitted that its result should be obviously the

MARIE-ALPHONSE RATISBONNE. 77

ruin of his fairest hopes of fortune, and of the
deepest affections of his heart. It severs the
bonds of a love which has been already hal-
lowed by solemn espousals. " A week since,"
he writes to his betrothed, " if any unforeseen
calamity had compelled me to give you up, I
could not have had the courage to do so ; I
should have died in the effort Now, to-
day, if my new faith is to divide us, I shall
offer this sacrifice to God without shedding
one tear ; and all my life long I shall pray
that He may bless and enlighten yoa, and
grant that we may meet in heaven."

Alphonse Eatisbonne made his public
abjuration on the 31st of January, in the
church of the Gesu, in presence of Cardinal
Patrizi. The young catechumen, clothed in a
long robe of white silk, was placed at the bot-
tom of the church, below the barrier which
separated him from the holy place, in com-
pliance with the ancient custom preserved in
our ritual. I did not then know him; but an
undefinable interest, excited by the miracu-
lous circumstances of his conversion, drew me
towards him. I got as near to him as I could,
rather to read upon his features the impres-
sions of his soul, than to follow the touching
ceremony of his abjuration. The cardinal,
having prayed awhile at the altar, and as-
sumed his pontifical vestments, went in pro-
cession towards the catechumen, at the bottom
of the nave of the church. There commenced

78 THE CONVERSION OF

the ceremonies and exorcisms. Never had I
so felt the Divine character of that ritual, so
full of mysteries. Can you conceive any
thing more thrilling than this dialogue :

" What do you crave ?"

" Baptism."

"What besides?"

"Life."

" Do you renounce the Devil ? "

" I renounce him."

"Do you believe in Jesus Christ?"

" I do believe in him."
He, a descendant of those Jews who hanged
Him on the wood of shame? All that is
merely formal and outward had disappeared
here. That firm, brief, energetic speech ;
that decided but modest look at the bishop
who is questioning him ; the noble firmness
of his attitude, and the unruffled placidity of
his features, the paleness of which was re-
lieved by the faintest flush, — all these indi-
cations of a resolute, thoughtful, and collected
character brought home to me the grandeur
of this conflict, in which the rarest and most
testing courage, that of a profound conviction
without enthusiasm, without an enthralling
imagination, had conquered that which is
mightiest and most' tenacious of life in the
heart of man — his early faith and his first
love. A sigh of ineffable happiness escaped
from his breast ; a smile, like a ray of heav-
enly beatitude, hovered around his lips, as

MARIE-ALPHONSE KATISBONNE. 79

he raised hie head, moist and dripping with
the waters of Baptism. It was clear — every
eye might see it — he had crossed a great
gulf; he breathed, he was a Christian.

And then every barrier of the Church fell
down before the innocence and the faith of
this regenerated soul. Amidst the benedic-
tions of the enormous crowd that filled the
nave and just opened a pathway for him as
he passed, the young neophyte was led to
the altar. lie there received the sacrament
of Confirmation at the hands of the cardinal.
As the gifts of the Holy Ghost descended, to-
gether with the blessing of the bishop, upon
his head, he seemed to me oppressed beneath
the torrent of grace ; the waves of gladness
that flowed in upon him were*too vast — came
too suddenly, too impetuously. It seemed as
though, before opening his heart to the heav-
enly joys of his first communion, he needed
time and rest to control his excess of holy
emotion. The ceremony was suspended a
while. A voice, well known and dear to this
pious congregation, — almost all French, or
Catholic strangers, to whom the glorious pop-
ularity of our language was, like the faith, a
common bond, — was heard celebrating the in-
finite mercies of God, and the wondrous
patronage of Mary, manifested in the city of
Rome towards a son of France. The Abbe
Dupanlonp's heart poured forth, spontane-
ously and without effort, a stream of lofty

80 THE CONVERSION OF

language, with the grace and masculine en-
ergy of a living faith, and with bursts of
pathetic eloquence, to which his congregation
could respond only by their tears.

At length the holy Sacrifice of the Mass
began. I could not remove my eyes from
M. Ratisbonne, absorbed entirely in his ful-
ness of joy and in the fervour of his prayer.
I fancied I could read upon his soul the
growing impression of the bleeding memo-
rials of Calvary. But I cannot express my
meaning. And how shall I speak of this new
pasch of this new Christian ? How convey to
you a notion of the solemn moment when the
cardinal, tremulous with emotion, placed the
sacred host upon his lips ? At this last, highest
grace, the vessel of election flowed over.
He who had been, up to this moment, so
calm in his fervour, so collected and firm, so
entirely master of his deep feelings, could
not now contain the fulness of this new and
unknowir*'bliss ; he sobbed passionately, and
was led almost fainting from the altar to his
assigned place. And then was illustrated, in
its sweetest symbol, the Catholic dogma of
the communion of saints, — that mystery of
universal and brotherly oneness, in virtue of
which ten thousand times ten thousand of
every tongue and of every land, who know
not each other's names, meet and are one in the
mystic feast, breaking together the bread of
life everlasting, and drinking at one chalice

MARIE- ALrilONSE RATISBONNE. 81

the wine of boundless infinite charity. Noble
ladies, girls in the first bloom of youth, young
men, and men whose names and whose deeds
are written in their country's annals, drew
near with one accord to the holy table, offering
to God for the new convert their fervent com-
munions, just as mothers would have done for
their children, or sisters for a brother, or friend
for beloved friend. And the people, moved by
this spectacle, joined their prayers and bless-
ings by words, spoken loud — words of a
simple sweetness and charm which cannot be
transferred from their native Italian. At
length the Te Deum thundered forth, — no
other word can express the electrical effect of
that exulting shout of thanksgiving, blending
with the noble organ and the pealing bells of the
Gesu. It is not a hymn of the Church, grave
and measured, but rather the living acclaim
of an enormous multitude swaying beneath
an overmastering religious enthusiasm. I
pray God that the memory of what I felt du-
ring those three hours may never be effaced
from my heart ; an impression like that is
undoubtedly one of the most precious boons
that can be bestowed upon a Christian soul.

82 THE CONVERSION OF

LETTER

MAKIE-ALPHONSE KATISBONNE

TO M. DUFRICHE-DESGENETTES,

Founder and Director of tJie " Archiconfrerie de Noire-Dame des
Victoires" at Paris.

This letter was published in the first bulletin
of the annals of the Arehconfraternity. It was
introduced by the cure of Notre-Bame des
Victoires, with the following preface.

The news of the conversion of M. Alphonse
Ratisbonne was communicated to the Arch-
confraternity of the Sacred Heart of Mary on
Sunday, January 30th, 1842, at the evening
service. It was brought by his brother,
M. l'Abbe Theodore Ratisbonne, our sub-di-
rector. It would be impossible to describe
the impression produced on all present by
this touching and interesting narrative. When
the Abbe Ratisbonne, after having recounted
the circumstances of this wonderful conver-
sion added, " This Alphonse, of whom I am
speaking to you, is my brother. . .*' the emo-
tion of the congregation became most intense,
and a prolonged murmur of wonder and of
joy was heard throughout it. They had been

MARIE-ALPHONSE RATISBONNE. 83

marvelling at the Divine mercy, and rejoicing
in the return of this prodigal to his lather's
house, with the common joy of Christians;
but at the words, " he is my brother," all the
congregation shared the rapture of the pious
ecclesiastic, all felt that they too had gained
a brother. At the request of many members
of our confraternity, we sang the Magnificat in
thanksgiving, just before I mounted the pul-
pit. For more than a year the family of the
young neophyte had been the object of our
eager desires and prayers, and, but a fortnight
before his conversion, Alphonse had been
again and specially commended by his brother
to our public prayers.

As I wished to diffuse throughout the whole
confraternity the sacred joy which filled our
own hearts, and as I was anxious that my ac-
count should be scrupulously exact, I begged
M. Marie-Alphonse Katisbonne to be kind
enough to give me, himself, a statement of the
circumstances of his conversion ; and I feel
great pleasure in publishing the following ex-
tract from the letter he wrote in reply :

College ofJuilly, 12th April, 1842.

My first thought and the first instinct of
my heart, at the moment of my conversion,
was to bury myself and my secret in the clois-
ter, so that I might find refuge from the world,
which could no longer understand me, and
give myself entirely to my God, who had gi-

84- THE CONVERSION OF

ven me such a glimpse of the spiritual world.
I was reluctant to speak without the permis-
sion of a priest. He, who was to me the re-
presentative and voice of God, commanded
me to make known what had happened to
me; and I did so, in so far as words enabled
me to express my meaning. And now, after
some weeks of retirement and retreat, I will
try to set down a greater fulness of detail ; and
it is fitting that sinners should give an account
of the graces vouchsafed to them to you, M. le
Cure — to you who have founded the Arch-
confraternity for the conversion of sinners.

If I had only to apprise you of the fact
of my conversion, one single word would
suffice — the name of Mary. But your con-
fraternity is eager to have a full account;
you wish to know who and what is this
son of Abraham, who has found at Home
life, and grace, and happiness. I will, there-
fore, first invoke the aid of my heavenly
Mother, and then set before you, in very
simple words, the course and order of my
life. p

My family is known well enough, for its
members are rich and generous ; and it has
long occupied a high station in Alsace. It
is said that my ancestors have been very
godly men ; Christians as well as Jews have
blessed the name of my grandfather, the
only Jew who obtained, under Louis XYL,
not only the right to hold property at Stras-

MARIE-AXPHONSE KATISBONNE. 85

burg, but a patent of nobility. Such was
my family; but now all traditions of reli-
gion are effaced from it.

I began my studies at the Royal College
of Strasburg, where I made far greater pro-
gress in the depravation of my heart than
in the education of my mind.

It was in the year 1825 (I was born May
1st, IS 11) that an unexpected event inflicted
a heavy blow on my family. My brother
Theodore, of whom the highest hopes were
entertained, avowed himself a Christian ; and
soon after, nowithstanding the grief he had
occasioned and the earnest entreaties of our
parents, he became a priest, and exercised
his ministry in the same city, and before
the very eyes of my disconsolate family.
Young as I was, my brother's conduct
shocked me greatly, and I conceived a violent
hatred of his office, and of his person and
character. Brought up amongst young Chris-
tians, who were quite as reckless and indif-
ferent as I was myself, I had not, up to
that time, felt either syuq^athy or antipathy
towards Christianity; but my brother's con-
version, which I looked upon as an act of
unaccountable folly, made me believe all I
heard of the fanaticism of the Catholics, and
I held them accordingly in great horror.

I was about this time, withdrawn from
college to be placed in a Protestant institu-
tion, the magniloquent prospectus of which

86 THE CON VERSION OF

had dazzled my narents. The younger mem-
bers of the great Protestant families of Alsace
and of Germany came there, to be moulded
upon the fashionable life of Paris, and aban-
doned themselves to pleasures of all kinds,
far more than to study. Nevertheless, I pre-
sented myself for examination when I left
this institution, and, by a piece of good luck
I little deserved, I was admitted Bachelor
of Arts.

I was then sole master of my patrimony ;
for my mother had died while I was still
young, and my father had survived her but a
few years. But I had a worthy uncle, the
patriarch of the family, a second lather to me,
who, having no children of his own, had cen-
tred all his affection in those of his brother.

This uncle, so well known in the financial
world for his lofty integrity as well as for his
extraordinary capacity, wished much to give
me a share in the bank of which he is the
head ; but I first of all read law at Paris, and,
after having obtained the diploma of a licen-
tiate and put on my advocate's gown, I was
recalled to Strasburg by my uncle, who ex-
erted all his influence to settle me with him-
self. I cannot number all his cares and
kindnesses : horses, carriages, pleasant tra-
vels, a thousand acts of lavish affection, were
mine, and he had not the heart to refuse me
any thing. My uncle gave me a more posi-
tive mark of his confidence still : he gave me

MARIE-ALPHONSE EA11SB0NNE. 87

the signature of the bank, and he promised
me besides the title and the solid advantages
of a partner — a promise which he carried into
effect the first of January in this year, 1842.
I was at Rome when this information reached
me.

My uncle had only one matter of complaint
— my frequent journeys to Paris. You are too
fond of the Champs- Ely sees, said he affection-
ately to me. He was right. I loved nothing
but pleasures ; business annoyed me, the at-
mosphere of the office stifled me; I had a no-
tion that people came into the world simply
to enjoy themselves ; and, although a kind of
natural and instinctive modesty kept me from
baser pleasures and associates, I thought of
nothing but fetes and rejoicings, and gave
myself up to them with passionate ardour.

It was fortunate that about this time a
good work offered itself to my eager need of
action, and I threw myself into it with all my
heart. It was the work of the regeneration of
the poor Israelites, as it was erroneously
called ; for I have now learned that something
more than money and lotteries of charity is
requisite to regenerate a people destitute of
religion. But 1 honestly believed in the pos-
sibility of this renovation, and I became one
of the most zealous members of the Society
for the providing occupation for young Jews,
— a society which my brother had founded at
Strasburg fifteen years before, and which has

SS THE CONVERSION OF

lasted until now, notwithstanding its limited
resources. I managed to fill its coffers, and
fancied I had clone something very great.

0 Christian charity, how thou wouldst
smile at my lofty self-satisfaction ! The Jew
thinks a great deal of himself when he has
given a great deal; the Christian gives all
and despises himself — he despises himself until
he has given himself in addition; and when
he has sacrified himself whole and entire, he
despises himself still.

Although I had no religion whatever, I
was busy with the worldly condition of my
co-religionists. I was a Jew by profession,
and that is all; for I did not even believe in
God. I never opened a religious book; and
neither in my uncle's house nor in those of
my brothers and sisters was there the slightest
observance of the injunctions of Judaism.

There was a fearful void in my heart, and
I was not happy, though I possessed every
thing in abundance, in profusion. Something
was still lacking; and this something I found,
at least so I fondly fancied; and it was thus :

1 had a niece, the daughter of my eldest
brother, who had been destined to me from
our childhood. She was growing up, under
my own eyes, in beauty and in gracefulness,
and in her I beheld the fair promise of my fu-
ture life, and the satisfaction of all my hopes.
I do not think it seemly to set forth here the
praises of her who was my betrothed. It

MARIE-ALPHONSE RATISBONNE. 89

would be useless to those who do not know
her; but those who have seen her know that
it would not be easy to imagine a young girl
more gentle, more amiable, more charming.
She was to me a creature apart, who seemed
formed expressly to complete my existence:
and when the desires of all our family, com-
bined with our mutual symatliy and aifection,
fixed the time of my long-wished-for marriage,
I thought that nothing could be thenceforth
wanting to my happiness.

And thus, after the ceremony of our be
trothal, I had the pleasure of seeing all
my family overflowing with joy, and my
sisters so happy ! 'They had but one re*
proach to make — I loved my bride too exclu-
sively, and they confessed their jealousy ; for
I may say in missing, that there are few
families so happy as mine: the most inti-
mate and perfect union of hearts, the most
tender affection, reigns amongst my brothers
and sisters — an affection which verged on
idolatry. . . . And, indeed, my sisters are so
good, so loving, and so lovely. . . . Why, alas,
are they not Christians ?

There was only one member of our family
who was hateful to me — my brother Theo-
dore. And yet he loved us well; but his
soutane repelled me, his presence oppressed me
with gloom, his grave and serious conversation
excited my wrath. About a year before my
betrothal I had found it impossible to restrain
S*

90 THE CONVERSION OF

my feelings, and I expressed them to him in
a letter, which was intended to sever all con-
nection between ns for ever. The occasion
was this. A child was lying in the agony
of death ; my brother Theodore had the assu-
rance to ask permission to baptise it, and he
would probably have succeeded, if I had not
been informed of his intention. I looked on
it as an unworthy and dishonourable attempt ;
Iwote to the priest tq try his strength with
men and not with children; and 1 accom-
panied these words with so many invectives
and threatenings, that I am even now as-
tonished that my brother did not answer me
a single word. lie continued his relations
with the rest of the family ; but I would
never see him again, and I cherished a blind
and bitter hatred against priests, and churches,
and convents, and especially against the Je-
suits, whose very name goaded me to frenzy.
Fortunately my brother left Strasburg,
and so gratified my most earnest wish. Tie
was summoned to Paris, to Notre Dame des
Victoires, where, he said as he bade us fare-
well, lie should not cease to pray for the con-
version of his brothers and sisters. His
departure relieved me of a heavy weight ; I
even yielded so far to the entreaties of my
family as to write him a few words of apology
on the occasion of my betrothal. He an-
swered my letter affectionately, and com-
mended to my care some few poor people in

MARIE- ALPHONSE RATISBONNE. 91

whom he felt interested ; and I gave them
some trifling sum.

After this sort of reconciliation I had no
further connection with Theodore, and I had
altogether ceased to think of him ; I had for-
gotten him quite. . . and he, the while, was
praying for me !

I ought to mention here a kind of revo-
lution in my religious notions which took
place about the time of the ceremony of my
betrothal. As I have said, I believed in
nothing ; and in this complete nullity, this
negation of all faith, I found myself perfectly
in harmony with my young friends, whether
Catholic or Protestant. But the look of my
bride awakened within me a mysterious sense
of human dignity and worth ; I began to
believe in the immortality of the soul ; more
than that, I began, by a kind of instinct, to
pray to God ; I thanked Him for my hap-
piness : and for all that I was not happy. . .
I could not analyse and account for my feel-
ings ; I looked on my sweet bride as my good
angel ; I often told her so ; and, indeed, the
thought of her raised my heart towards a God
whom I knew not, Whom I had never before
invoked.

It was deemed right, by reason of the
tender age of my bride, to postpone our mar-
riage. She was only sixteen years old. I
was to undertake a voyage of pleasure to be-
guile the time of expectation. I scarcely

92 THE CONVERSION OF

knew whither to direct my wanderings ; one
of my sisters, who is settled in Paris, wished
me to remain with her ; a dear friend wanted
to take me off to Spain. I declined the in-
vitations of some others, who made me very
attractive propositions. I resolved, at length,
to go straight to Naples, to pass the winter at
Malta for the benefit of my rather delicate
health, and then to return home by way of the
East. I got letters of introduction for Constan-
tinople even ; and I set ont about the end of
November, 18-11, intending to return in the
spring of 1812.

My leave-taking was very melancholy. I
left behind me my beloved bride, an uncle
whose whole affection rested on me, sisters,
brothers, nieces, whose society was my most
valued delight ; I left also those industrial
schools, those poor Jews with whom I was so
actively employed, and the numerous friends
who loved me — friends of my childhood,
whom I could not leave without shedding
tears ; for indeed I loved them, and love them
still. . . .

To set out alone on so long a vo}rage! the
mere thought threw me into a state of pro-
found sadness. But, said I to myself, per-
haps God will send me some friend on. my
way!

I recollect two singular incidents which
marked the days preceding my departure,
and which now strike me forcibly. I wished

MARIE-ALPHONSE EATISBOJSTNK. 93

belore leaving, to affix my signature to a
large number of receipts connected with the
subscriptions to the Jewish industrial society

I dated them in advance January

15th, and by dint of writing this date so many
times, I became weary of it, and said, as I
laid down my pen:

"God only knows where I shall be on the
15th of January, and whether that day may
not be the day of my death."

On that day I arrived at Rome, and I re-
gard it as the first dawn of my new life.

Another circumstance that interested me
was the meeting of several distinguished
Jews to consider the means of reforming the
worship of Judaism, and bringing it more
into harmony witli the spirit of the age. I
went to the meeting, at which every one gave
his opinion on the improvements that were
suggested. There were as many opinions as
persons ; there was a great deal of discussion ;
they took into account the convenience of
man, the events of the times, the axioms ot
public opinion, all the ideas of modern civili-
sation : every thing was thought of and
pondered, one only was forgotten — the law of
God. That did not seem to come into the
question at all ; I cannot remember that the
name of God was mentioned once, or that of
Moses, or the existence of the Bible.

My own private opinion was, that they
should allow all religious forms to die quietly

94 THE CONVERSION OF

out ; that they need not have recourse either
to books or to men, but that every one should
be left free to express and practise his faitli
in his own fashion. This opinion proves my
lofty wisdom in matters of religion. I had
made progress as you will see. The meeting
broke up without coming to any decision.

But a Jew, more sensible than I, had
given utterance to a sentiment so remarkable,
that I will give it word for word : " We must
make haste to abandon this old temple, whose
crumbling walls are parting on all sides, un-
less we wish to be buried beneath its ruins ;"
words full of truth, words which every Jew
of our times murmurs to himself alone. But,
alas, eighteen centuries have passed since
they abandoned their ancient temple, and
they will not enter that new temple whose
gates are open to them by day and by night!

At length I set out. As I left Strasburg
I shed many tears; I was disquieted by a
crowd of fears, by a thousand strange pre-
sentiments. When we stopped to change
horses, I was roused from my reverie by cries
of joy and the sound of music. It was a rustic
wedding — the happy, noisy villagers were just
issuing from the church — flutes and fiddles
were going vigorously ; the crowd came round
my carriage, as though to invite me to share
their joy. "It will be my turn soon," lex-
claimed. And this thought restored my cheer-
fulness.

MARIE- ALPHONSE RATISBONNE. 95

I spent some days at Marseilles, where
my friends and relatives received me with
open arms. I could scarcely tear myself
from all this elegant hospitality. And. truly
it needs an effort to leave France, when one
leaves also a whole life of love, and of loving
memories and associations. Besides the ties
which bound me to her shores, the sea itself
seemed to oppose my departure ; it rolled
along its mighty waves to bar my progress ;
but all these obstacles were swept away by
the steamer which took me to Naples. I was
soon able to enjoy the magnificent type of
inimity above me and around me ; but what
struck me more than sea or sky was man,
that frail creature who braves all dangers,
and masters the elements themselves. My
pride was loftier than the rolling waves,
more tenacious of its aims, and far less
easily subjugated.

The boat touched at Civita Yecchia on its
way to Naples. As we entered the harbour
the sound of cannon greeted our ears. I asked,
with a spiteful curiosity, the motive of this
warlike sound on the peaceful territory of the
Pope. I received for answer, " It is the feast
of the Conception of Mary." I shrugged my
shoulders and would not land.

The next day we reached Naples. The
sun was shining gloriously, and producing
brilliant effects on the smoke of Vesuvius.
Never had I been so dazzled by any scene of

yb THE CONVERSION OF

nature.' I saw before me the reality of those
glowing images of the heavens and the sea
with which artists 'and poets had stored my
fancy.

I passed a month at Naples, that I might
see and describe every thing. I wrote bitter
things against the religion and the priests,
who seemed to me so out of keeping with that
magnificent country. Oh, with what blasphe-
mies did I fill my journal! And if I speak
of them now, it is that you may see how dark
and evil was my soul then. I wrote to Stras-
burg that I had drunk some lachryma Chrlsti
on. Vesuvius to the health of the abbe Eatis-
bonne, and that tears like that did me good
too. I cannot transcribe the horrible witti-
cisms that I permitted myself to write.

My betrothed asked me if I agreed with
those who said : " See Naples and die.'' No,
I replied ; but see Naples and live ; live to see
it again. Such was my state of mind.

I had no wish to go to Rome, although
two friends of my family, whom I saw fre-
quently, urged me strongly to do so ; I mean
M. Coulman, a Protestant, and formerly de-
2?ute of Strasburg, and Baron Rothschild,
whose family lavished on me every kind of
attention and of gratification. I could not

yield to their persuasions My betrothed

wished me to go direct to Malta ; and she sent
me a recommendation from my physician that
I should spend the winter there, and carefully

MAltIE»ALPHONSE RATISBONNE. 97

avoid Rome, because of the malignant fevers
which, he said, prevailed there.

These reasons would have prevented my
going to Rome, even if I had placed this jour-
ney on my original programme. I thought I
might possibly go there on my return, and I
took my place in the Mongibello for Sicily.
A friend accompanied me on board of the
vessel, and promised to return and bid me
farewell before we started. He came, but did
not find me. If M. de Rechecourt should
ever learn the reason of my breach of en-
gagement, he will be able to account for my
apparent incivility, and will, I am sure, for-
give me.

M. Conlman had introduced me to an amia-
ble and estimable man who was going to
Malta. I was so pleased at this, that I said
to myself: "This is surely the friend God has
sent me."

However, the first day of the new year
arrived, and the vessel had not left. It was a
sad day to me. I was alone at Naples ; no
one to congratulate me and wish me well, no
one to press to my heart. I thought of my
family, of the festivity and joy with which
my uncle always kept that clay; I began to
shed tears, and the lively gaiety of the Neapo-
litans deepened my sadness. I went out, to
shake off my importunate melancholy, and
followed mechanically in the train of the
crowd. I reached the 2^ace i11 front of the
6

98 THE CONVERSION OF

palace, and found myself, I know not how, at^
the door of a church. I went in. I think a
priest was saying Mass. I remained there,
leaning against a pillar, and my heart seemed
to open and expand in a new atmosphere. I
prayed after my own fashion, without taking
any notice of what was going on around me ;
I prayed for my betrothed, for my uncle,
for my deceased father, for the loving mo-
ther who had been taken from me so early,
for all who were dear to me ; and I asked of
God some inspiration, some intimation of His
will which might guide me in my projects
for improving the condition of the Jews, —
projects which haunted me incessantly.

My sadness passed away, like a cloud
which the wind breaks up and disperses ; and
my heart was filled with an unutterable calm-
ness, with a consolation such as I should have
felt if a voice had said to me : " Your prayer
is heard." Yes, it was heard, — heard far
beyond all expectation ; for on the last day
of that same month I was to be baptised in
a church at Rome !

But how did I get to Rome ?

I do not know, nor can I account for it in
any way. I almost fancy I must have missed
my way ; for instead of going to the bu-
reau of the Palermo boats, as I intended when
I left my lodging, I found myself in that of
the diligences for Rome. I told M. Yigne,
the friend who was to accompany me to

MARIE-ALPHONSE KATISLONNE. 99

Malta, that I could not resist the temptation
of making a short expedition to Rome, but
that I would certainly be at Naples so as to
leave with him on the 20th of January. I
was wrong to pledge myself thus ; for God
disposes ; and that 20th of January was des-
tined to mark a very different crisis in my
life. I left Naples on the 5th, and reached
Rome on the 6th, the feast of the Epiphany.
I had for my fellow-traveller an Englishman,
named Marshall, whose original conversation
amused me much.

Home did not at first produce on me the
impression I had expected. And I was so
pressed for time, that I eagerly devoured
ruins, ancient and modern, with the avidity of
a thorough tourist. I tilled my imagination and
my journal with a confused medley of remi-
niscences. I visited with a monotonous ad-
miration galleries, churches, catacombs, and
all the innumerable magnificences of Rome. I
was most frequently accompanied by my En-
glish friend, and by a valet cle place ; I have
no notion what religion they were of, for nei-
ther of them gave any sign of Christianity in
the churches, and I believed I behaved far
more reverently than they did.

On the 8th of January, as I was going my
round of sight-seeing, I heard some one call-
ing me in the street; it was my old friend
Gustave de Bussieres. I was very happy to
meet him, for my isolation had become pain-

100 TIIE CON VERSION OF

ful to me. We went to cline with my friend's
father ; and in that agreeable circle I felt some
measure of the joy with which one greets any
memorial of one's own country in a strange
land.

As I entered the drawing-room, M. Theo-
dore de Bussieres, the eldest son of this ho-
nourable family, was leaving it. I did not
know him personally, but I knew that he was
my brother's friend and namesake ; I knew
that he had deserted Protestantism and be-
come a Catholic, and this was quite enough
to inspire me with a profound antipathy to
him. I fancied that this feeling was recipro-
cals However, as M. Theodore de Bussieres
was already well known by his published vo-
lume of travels in Sicily and in the East, I
was very glad to ask him some questions be-
fore starting on the same track ; and whether
on this account, or from mere civility, I signi-
fied my intention of paying him a visit. He
answered me very kindly, and added, that he
had just received a letter from my brother the
abbe, and that he would give me his new ad-
dress. " I will gladly receive it," said I, "al-
though I shall not need it."

There our conversation ended ; and when
he had left, I felt annoyed at the obligation I
had imposed on myself to make a useless visit
and waste my very precious time.

I continued running about Kome all day
long except two hours in the morning which

MARIE- ALPHONSE RATISBONNE. 101

I spent with Gustave ; and in the evening I
took my ease, either at the theatre or at some
party. My conversations with Gustave were
very animated; for the intercourse of two old
schoolfellows furnishes inexhaustible store of
amusing and interesting souvenirs. But he
was a Protestant, with all the zeal and enthu-
siasm of the pietists of Alsace. He talked
largely of the superiority of his sect to all
other Christian communities, and was very
eager to convert me ; and I was much
amused, as I had fancied that the mania of
proselytisrn was peculiar to Catholics. I
generally evaded his assaults by some merry
jest; but once, to console him for the fail-
ure of his attempts, I promised him, that
if ever I took it into my head to be con-
verted, I would turn pietist; and he, on his
part, promised that he would be present at
my marriage, in the August following. All
his efforts to detain me at Rome were inef-
fectual. Others of my friends, M. Edmund
Ilumann and Alfred de Lotzbeck, joined
with him in begging me to remain in Rome
for the Carnival. But I could not consent;
I feared I should grieve and distress my
betrothed, and M. vigne expected me at
Naples in time to start with him on the
20th of January.

I was making the best use of the short
time that remained, and went to the Capitol
to visit the church of Aracoeli. The impos-
9*

102 THE CONVERSION OF

ing appearance of tins church, the solemn
chants which were echoing along its vast
nave, the historical recollections awakened
in me by the very soil I was treading, — all
combined to produce a profound impression
upon me. I was moved, penetrated, trans-
ported ; and my valet de place, noticing my
emotion, told me that he had frequently seen
strangers affected in a similar way in that
church.

As we came down from the Capitol, my
cicerone led me through the Ghetto, the
quarter assigned to the Jews. There I felt
an emotion of an entirely different kind —
mingled pity and indignation. What, I ex-
claimed, as I beheld that miserable sight,
is this that Roman charity of which so much
is said? I shuddered with horror, and I
asked myself whether a whole nation de-
served to be the victims of such barbarous
treatment and of such endless prejudices,
simply for having killed one man eighteen
hundred years ago ! Alas, I knew not then
who this One Man was — I knew not the
cry of blood which this people had uttered
— a cry which I dare not repeat here, and
which I cannot bear to recall. Rather would
I dwell upon that other cry, wafted to hea-
ven from the cross, Father, forgive them;
for they know not ichat they do !

I described all that I had seen and felt
to my family. I remember having written,

MAKIE-ALPHONSE RATISBONNE. 103

that I preferred being of the number of the
oppressed to being in the camp of the op-
pressors. I went back again to the Capitol,
and found the church of Aracoeli in a great
bustle of preparation for some grand cere-
mony. I asked the object of it, and was
told that two Jews, named Constantini, of
Ancona, were going to be baptised. I can-
not describe the indignation I felt on re-
ceiving this information ;mnd when my guide
asked me if I should like to be present I
exclaimed: "What! /assist at so infamous
a spectacle! No, no; I should not be able
to restrain myself from making a desperate
onslaught on both priests and victims."

I may say, without exaggeration, that I
never felt so tierce a hatred towards Chris-
tianity as after that visit to the Ghetto.
The stream of my mockery and blasphemy
flowed incessantly and inexhaustibly.

However, I had a few farewell visits to
make, and my promise to Baron de Bus-
sieres occurred to me continually as an
awkward obligation gratuitously taken on
myself. Most fortunately I had not asked
his address, and I resolved to make this
circumstance my excuse for not performing
my promise.

It was now the 15th, and I went to take
my place for Naples ; my departure was
fixed for the 17th, at three a.m. I had two
days left, and I employed them, as usual,

104: THE CONVERSION OF

in running about. But, as I was coming
out of a book-shop in which I had been
looking over some works on Constantinople,
I met a servant of M. cle Bussieres senior,
on the Corso. He saluted me in passing,
and I stopped him to ask the address of
M. Theodore de Bussieres : he replied, with
an Alsatian accent : Piazza Nicosia, No. 38.

And now, whether I liked it or not, I was
committed to this ^jsit. I put it off to the
last moment, and at length set off, carrying
in my hand a card on which I had written p.
p. c. I found out this Piazza Nicosia, after
a great many turns and windings, and at
length readied No. 38. It was the very next
door to the bureau at which I had taken my
place for Naples the same day. I had made
a good round to reach the point from which
I had started — type of many a journey of
life on earth ! But from that point I set forth
on a journey of which I little thought !

My reception at the house of M. de Bus-
sieres was annoying. Instead of simply
taking my card, the servant suddenly an-
nounced me, and introduced me into the
drawing-room. I concealed my vexation as
well as I could beneath a civil smile, and I
took a chair near Madame de Bussieres, who
was sitting with her two daughters, graceful
and gentle as the angels that Raphael painted.
Our conversation was at first very general
and unmeaning ; but it soon began to take the

MARIE- ALPHONSE RATISBONNE. 105

tone and hue of the deep passion with which
I related my impressions of Rome.

I looked on M. de Bussieres as a devot, in
the illnatured sense of the word, and I was
very glad to have the opportunity ot\ teasing
him about the Jews of Home. It was a re-
lief to me 'to do so ; but my complaints of
course led our conversation upon religious
ground. M. de Bussieres spoke to me of the
majesty and grandeur of Catholicism; and I
replied with irony, and some of the many
imputations I had either heard or read ; but
I could not he4p checking my impious frenzy,
out of respect for Madame de Bussieres and
the two dear children who were playing at
her side. "Well," said M. de Bussieres,
" since you detest superstition, and profess
yourself so very liberal in point of doctrine
— since you are so enlightened an esprit fort
— have you the courage to submit yourself
to a very simple and innocent test ?"

" What test ?"

" Only to wear a little something I wrill
give you ; look, it is a medal of the Blessed
Virgin. It seems very ridiculous, does it
not'/ But, I assure you, I attach great value
and efficacy to this little medal."

This proposal, I confess, astonished me by
its puerile oddity. I did not expect such a
bathos. My first impulse was to laugh and
shrug my shoulders ; but it struck me that
this scene could furnish me a delicious chap-

106 THE CONVERSION OF

ter for my journal; and I consented to take
the medal, that I might give it to my be-
trothed as a confirmation of my story. No
sooner said than done. The medal was
passed round my neck, not without difficulty,
however, for the ribbon was rather too short.
At length we succeeded ; I had the medal on
my heart, and I exclaimed with a hearty
laugh, " Ha, ha, here I am, a Catholic, apos-
tolic and Roman !"

It was the devil prophesying by my
mouth.

M. de Bussieres felt a childlike pleasure
in his victory, and was eager to grasp all its
advantages. "JNro\v," said he, "you must
perfect the test; you must say every night
and morning the Memorare, a very short and
very efficacious prayer which S. Bernard ad-
dressed to the Blessed Virgin Mary."

" What do you mean, with your Memo-
rare f " I exclaimed ; " come, let us have
done with this folly."

The name of S. Bernard reminded me of
my brother, who had written the life of this ,
great saint. I had never read his book ; and
this association kindled afresh all my antip-
athy to proselytism, Jesuitism, and all those
whom I called hypocrites and apostates.

I begged M. de Bussieres to drop the sub-
ject ; and I said, with a smile of contempt,
that I regretted my not having a Hebrew

MARIE- ALPHOJSTSE RATISBONNE. 107

prayer to offer him in return : but I bad not
one, and could not recollect one.

However, he persisted ; he said that by
refusing to recite this short prayer I made
the test useless, and that I proved thereby the
reality of the wilful obstinacy with which the
Jews were reproached. I did not wish to at-
tach too much importance to the matter, and
so I said : " WeU, then, I promise you to say
this prayer. Anyhow, if it does me no good,
it cannot do me any harm." And M. de
Bussieres went to look for it, and gave it to
me, begging me to copy it for him. I con-
sented, on condition that I might keep the
original, and give him my copy. I had no
other thought than to enrich my journal
with this additional pifcce justificative.

And now we were both satisfied. Our
conversation seemed to me whimsical and
very amusing. I took my departure, and
spent the evening at the theatre, thinking no
more either of my medal or of the Memorare.
But when I came home I found a note from
M. de Bussieres, who had called to return my
visit, begging me to see him once more before
I left Rome. I had to return his Memorare :
and as I was to leave in the morning, I
packed my trunks and made all my prepa-
rations, and then I sat down and copied the
prayer, Memorare, 0 iriissima Virgo. ... I
wrote these words of S. Bernard mechanically,
without thinking of their meaning. I was

108 THE CONVERSION OF

very tired ; it was very late, and I needed
rest.

The next day, the 16th of January, I got
my passport signed, and completed all my
preparations ; but as I walked along I could
not help repeating the words of the Memorare.
Whence was it, O my God, that these words
had taken so firm, so deep hold on my mind?
1 could not put them away ; they returned
importunately upon me. I said them over
and over again, just as one hums a tune
which haunts one involuntarily and without
conscious effort.

About eleven o'clock I called on M. de
Bussieres, to return to him his tenacious and
peremptory prayer. I talked to him about
my proposed travels in the East, and he gave
me much excellent advice. " But," said he
suddenly, " it is strange that you persist in
leaving Rome at the very time when people
are coming from all parts for the great cere-
monies at St. Peter's. Perhaps you may
never have the chance again ; and you will
be sorry to have lost an opportunity which so
many seek with eager curiosity."

I replied that my place was taken and
paid for; that I had written to inform my
family of my departure ; that I expected
letters at Palermo ; that it was now too late
to think of changing my plans, and that my
mind was made up. Our conversation was
interrupted by the postman, who brought a

MARIE-ALPHONSE RATISBONNE. 101)

letter from my brother, the Abbe Ratisbonne.
He showed me the letter ; but it was quite
devoid of interest to me, as it related to a
work which M. de Bnssieres was publishing
in Paris. My brother did not even know
that I wTas in Rome ; but this unexpected ep-
isode threatened to close my visit, as I was
eager to avoid every thing that could remind
me of my brother.

Nevertheless, I was induced, by some in-
comprehensible influence, to prolong my stay
at Rome. I granted to the urgency of a
man whom I scarcely knew, what I had
obstinately refused to my most intimate friends
and companions.

And what, O my God, what was that irre-
sistible impulse which led me to do what I
kad so firmly resolved not to do % "Was it not
a continuation of the same sweet force which
brought me from Strasburg to Italy, notwith-
standing my tempting invitations to Paris
and to Valencia ? — which led me from JSTaples
to Rome, in spite of my firm determination
to go straight to Sicily? — which at Rome
compelled me, on the eve of my departure,
to pay a visit which annoyed me, while I
neglected others which I should have liked ?
O wonderful leadings of Providence ? There
is a mysterious influence which goes with
us all along the course of our life. I had
received the name of Tobias together with
that of Alphonse. I had quite forgotten my
10

110 THE CONVERSION OF

name ; but the unseen angel had not forgotten
me ; he was the true and helpful friend
whom God had sent me — but?I knew him not.
Alas, how many are there in the world who
know not the celestial guide of their journey,
and who resist his gentle voice !

I had no wish to spend the Carnival in
Rome, but I did wish to see the Pope ; and
M. de Bussieres had assured me that I
should see him very soon at St. Peter's.
We took several rambles together. We
talked over every thing we saw — monu-
ments, pictures, manners and customs : but
religion contrived to mix itself with every
thing. M. de Bussieres introduced it with
such charming simplicity, enforced it with so
keen and ardent a zeal, that I often said to
myself, that if any thing could disgust a nu*i
with religion, it was the very importunity
with which his conversion was sought. My
natural gaiety led me to turn the most serious
subjects into ridicule, and the light flashes of
my fancy too often deepened into the fiendish
glare of blasphemy. Even now I shudder at
thought of those days.

And yet M. de Bussieres was uniformly
calm and indulgent, even though he could not
conceal his grief. He even said once : " In
spite of your rage, I have a sure conviction
that you will be a Christian one day ; for there
is in you a groundwork of rectitude which
comforts me when I think of you, and per-

MARIE-ALPHONSE BATiSBONNE. ill

suades me that you will be enlightened, even
though an angel from heaven be needed for
that end."

" Ha, well and good," said I ; " for else the
matter would not be easy to manage."

As we passed the Scala Santa, M. de Bus-
sieres was seized with a lit of enthusiasm, lie
rose up in the carriage, uncovered his head,
and said in a tone of fervour : " Hail, Scala
Santa! here is a sinner who will one day
mount you on his knees! "

It would be utterly impossible to express
the effect produced on me by this unexpected
movement, this extraordinary honour paid to
some old steps. I laughed at it as at some-
thing hopelessly, grotescpiely mad ; and as, a
short time after, we drove through the charm-
ing gardens of the Villa Wolkonski, I rose and
parodied his apostrophe by saying : " Hall,
true marvels of God's power! It is before
you that I kneel in homage, and not before
an old staircase ! "

These drives were repeated on the two fol-
lowing days, and lasted about two hours each.
On the 19th, I saw M. de Bussieres again, but
he seemed sad and dejected. I withdrew from
a motive of delicacy, without inquiring the
cause of his sadness. Indeed, I did not learn
this until the next day at noon, in the church
of S. Andrea delle Fratte.

I was to leave on the 22d of January ; for
I had a second time taken my place for ]STa-

112 THE CONVERSION OF

pies. The engagements of M. de Bussieres
seemed to have diminished his zeal for my
conversion, and I fancied he had forgotten all
about his miraculous medal ; but still I kept
on muttering to myself, though with an in-
conceivable impatience, that everlasting im-
portunate invocation of St. Bernard.

In the middle of the night before iha 20th
of January, I awoke suddenly, and saw before
me a large black cross, of a peculiar form,
and without the figure of our Lord. I made
many attempts to get rid of this image, but I
could not succeed ; however I turned, there it
was always before me. I cannot say how
long this lasted, for I fell asleep at length ;
and when I awoke in the' morning I thought
no more of it.

I had to write several letters, and I re-
member that one of them, written to the
younger sister of my betrothed, ended with
the words, " que Dieu vous garde" — may God
protect you ! Some little time after I received
a letter from my bride, dated that same 20th
of January, and ending with the same words,
" que Dieu vous garde ! " And, indeed, that
day was under the especial care and guar-
dianship of God.

Yet, if any one had said to me that morn-
ing, "You have risen a Jew; you will lie
down a Christian, ..." I should have looked
on him as hopelessly, ludicrously mad.

This Thursday, January 20th,' alter having

MARIE- ALPHONSE RATISBONNE. 113

taken breakfast at my hotel, and earned my
letters to the post, I went to call on my friend
Gustavo, the pietist, who had just returned
from a shooting excursion which had taken
him for some days from Rome. He was sur-
prised to see me still in Home ; I told him my
motive for remaining was to see the Pope.
" But I shall leave without seeing him after
all, I said ; for lie took no part in the cere-
mony of the (Jathedra Petri, although I had
been led to hope be would do so."

Gustave consoled me ironically by speaking
of another ceremony, and a very curious one,
he said, which was to take place, I think, at
S. Maria Maggiore. He alluded to the bless-
ing of the animals; and thereupon followed a
shower of jests and sarcasms, just such as you
can imagine a Jew and a Protestant would
utter.

We parted about eleven o'clock, after mak-
ing an appointment for the next day to see a
picture which had been painted for our con-
try man, Baron de Lotzbeck. I went oil to a
cafe, in the Piazza di Spagna to look at the
newspapers ; and I had scarcely entered it
when M. Edmond Ilumann sat down at my
side, and we talked very gaily about PaYis,
and the line arts and politics. Soon another
friend accosted me ; he was a Protestant,
M. Alfred de Lotzbeck, with whom I held a
conversation more frivolous still. We talked
of hunting, of all kinds of pleasures, of the
10*

114 THE CONVERSION OF

mirth of the Carnival, of the brilliant soiree
given the evening before by the Duke de Tor-
Ionia. ISTor did we forget the fete's of my ap-
proaching marriage, to which I invited M. de
Lotzbeck, who promised faithfully to be pre-
sent.

If at that moment — it was noon— a third
person had come up to me, and had said,
u Alphonse, in a quarter of an hour you will
be adoring Jesus Christ, your God and your
Saviour; you will be prostrate in a poor
church; you will be smiting your breast at
the feet of a priest in a convent of Jesuits,
where you will spend the Carnival in prepar-
ing for your baptism; and you will feel ready
to offer yourself in sacrifice for the Catholic
faith ; you will renounce the world, its pomps,
its pleasures ; your fortune, your hopes, your
bright glad future ; and if necessary, you will
renounce your betrothed also, and the love of
your family, the esteem of your friends, the
attachment of the Jews ; . . . and you will
have but one aspiration, to follow Jesus
Christ, and to bear His cross even unto
death ; . . ." — I say that if some prophet had
uttered before me a prediction like this, 1
should have thought that there could be only
one man more mad than he, the man who
could believe in the possibility of any thing
so absurd. And yet it is this absurdity and
folly which compose now my wisdom and my
happiness.

MARIE- ALPH0NSE EATISBONNE. 115

As I left the cafe, I met the carriage of
M. Theodore de Bussieres. He stopped, and
asked me to go with him for a drive. The
weather was magnificent, and I accepted his
invitation with pleasure. But M. de Bus-
sieres asked my permission to stop a lew mi-
nutes at the church of S. Andrea delle Fratte,
which was close by, as he had some little
business there. He asked me to wait for him
in the carriage ; but I preferred getting out to
look round the little church. They were busy
with preparations for a funeral, and I inquired
the name of the deceased person for whom
these honours were intended. M. de Bus-
sieres replied, "It is one of my friends, Count
de Laferronnays; his sudden death is the
cause of the depression of spirits you may
have observed in me the last day or two."

I did not know M. de Laferronnays, I had
never even seen him ; and so I felt nothing
more than that vague kind of sorrow which
one always feels at hearing of a sudden death.
M. de Bussieres left me to make some ar-
rangements about the tribune that was to
be set apart for tiie family of the deceased.
" I shall not tax your patience long," said
he ; " I shall not be away more than a few
minutes."

The church of S. Andrea delle Fratte is
small, poor, and almost deserted ; I think I
was almost the only person in it, and there
was no work of art to attract my attention.

116 THE CONVERSION OF

I was looking round mechanically, without
any definite thought or purpose ; I remem-
ber only a black dog, which bounded and
jumped before me as I moved about....
Suddenly the dog disappeared, the whole
church disappeared; I saw nothing fur-
ther, ... or rather, O my God, I saw one
only object!

And how should I speak of it? Ah, no,
no words of man can even attempt to utter
the unutterable ; all description, how sublime
soever, must of necessity be only a degrada-
tion of the ineffable reality.

I lay there, prostrate, bathed in tears, my
heart completely absorbed and lost, when
M. de Bussieres recalled me to life. I could
not answer his eager hurried questions ; but
at length I grasped the medal which I wore
in my bosom ; I kissed with fervent emotion
the image of the Virgin, radiant with grace.
Oh, yes, it was indeed her very self!

I knew not where I was ; I knew not
whether I was Alphonse Ratisbonne or not ;
I was so entirely changed, that I did not know
myself. ... I seemed to seek to identify my-
self, and to fail in the effort;... the most
glowing joy pervaded my heart; I could not
speak, I could reveal nothing ; I felt within
me something so awful and so sacred, that I
asked for a priest. ... I was taken to one, and
it was only at his positive command that I

MARIE- ALPHONSE EATISBONNE. 117

spoke as well as I could, on my knees, and
with a palpitating heart.

My first utterance was an expression of grat-
itude to M. de Laferronnays and to the Arch-
confraternity of Notre-Dame des Yictoires.
I knew intuitively that M. de Laferronnays
had prayed for me." I cannot tell how I knew
it, any more than I can account for the truths
of which I had suddenly gained both the
knowledge and the belief. All I can say is,
that the moment when the Blessed Virgin
made a sign with her hand, the veil fell from
my eyes ; not one veil only, but all the veils
which were wrapped around me disappeared,
just as snow melts beneath the rays of the
sun.

I came forth from a tomb, from an abyss of
darkness ; and I was living, perfectly, energet-
ically living. . . . and yet I shed tears. I saw
before me the fearful miseries from which I
had been rescued by the mercy of God ; I
shuddered at the sight of my innumerable
sins, and I was stupefied, melted, almost
crushed by a sense of wonder and of grati-
tude. ... I thought of my brother with a joy
beyond words ; but tears of compassion were

* M. de Laferronnays died suddenly on the evening of the
17th of January, 1842, after a life of edifying and consistent
piety The day before he had dined at Prince Borghese's.
and M de Bussieres had commended the young Jew, in whom
he felt so much interested, to his prayers. M. de Laferronnays
manifested a singular interest in this conversion.

118 THE CONVERSION OP

mingled with my tears of love. Alas, that so
many should go quietly down into this yawn-
ing abyss with their eyes closed by pride or
by indifference . . . should go down and be
swallowed up of this horrible darkness... and
then, my family, my betrothed, my poor sis-
ters! O torturing anxiety! My thoughts
were of you, O ye beloved ones, — my first
prayers were for you ! . . . And are you never
to raise your eyes towards the Saviour of the
world, whose blood hath blotted out original
sin ? O, how foul is the blot of that stain !
how completely it obliterates every trace by
which we might recognise the creature that
was made in the image of God !

I am asked how I attained a knowledge of
these truths, since it is well known that I
never opened a religious book, had never read
a page of the Bible, and that the dogma of
original sin, which is either denied or utterly
forgotten by the modern Jews, had never for
a single moment occupied my thoughts, —
indeed, I doubt whether I had ever heard the
words which express it. How, then, did I
arrive at a knowledge of it ? I know not. All
that I know is, that when I entered that
church I was profoundly ignorant of every
thing, and that when I came out I saw every
thing clearly and distinctly. The only expla-
nation I can suggest is, that I was like a man
suddenly roused from slumber, or rather, like
a man born blind, whose eyes are suddenly

MARIE-ALPHONSE RATISBONNE. 119

opened ; — he sees indeed, but he can give no
definition of that light which enlightens him,
and in which he beholds the objects of his
wondering gaze. And if we cannot explain
the light of nature, how should we be able to
explain that light which is in reality the very
truth itself? I think I state the precise truth
wdien I say that I knew not the letter, but that
I grasped fully the inner meaning and the
spirit of the Catholic dogmas. I rather felt
than saw them ; and I felt them by •the inde-
scribable effects they produced within me.
The scene of these wonders was within, in my
soul ; and their impressions, ten thousand
times more swift than thought, ten thousand
times deeper than reflection, had not only
shaken my soul to its foundation, but had, as
it were, turned it round, and given it another
direction, towards another end, and in the
power of a new life.

I know I am expressing my meaning very
badly: but can you expect, monsieur, that I
should be able to measure with narrow and
dry speech those emotions which my heart
itself could with difficulty contain?

But however inexact and imperfect these
my words may be, the simple fact of the case
is, that I found myself in some sort like a
bare and naked being ; my soul was a tabula
rasa. . . . The world had no longer any exist-
ence for me ; my prejudices against Chris-
tianity were no more ; the instincts and pre-

120 THE CONVERSION OF

possessions of my childhood were gone, and
had left no trace ; the love of my God had so
entirely ejected and replaced every other
love, that my betrothed herself appeared to
me in quite another light : I loved her as one
might love any object which God held within
His outstretched hands, as a precious gift
which yet more endears the giver.

I repeat that I implored my confessor, Fa-
ther Villefort, and M. de Bussieres to observe
an inviolable secrecy in regard of what had
happened to me. My earnest wish was to
bury myself in a Trappist monastery, and
occupy myself exclusively with the things of
eternity; And, besides, I confess I thought
that my family and my friends would deem
me crazed — that they would turn me into
ridicule ; and that it was better for me in
every way to escape entirely from the world
— from its opinions and its judgments.

However, my ecclesiastical superiors
showed me that this ridicule, reproach, and
false judgments were but a part of that
chalice which is put to the lips of every real
Christian ; they urged me not to decline this
chalice, and told me how Jesus Christ had
predicted to His disciples, sufferings, tor-
ments, and anguish. These solemn and preg-
nant word were, so far from discouraging me,
that they increased my interior joy ; I felt my-
self ready and prepared for every thing, and
I eagerly craved baptism. They wished to

MARIE-ALPHONSE RATISBONNE. 121

interpose some delay : " but," I exclaimed,
" those Jews who heard the preaching of the
Apostles were baptised immediately, and you
wish to put me off, after I have heard the
Queen of Apostles ! " My deep emotion, my
vehement desire, my repeated supplications
touched the hearts of these holy men ; and I
was consoled by the blessed promise of an
early baptism.

I could scarcely await the day fixed upon
for the fulfilment of this promise, so foul and
deformed I felt myself before God ; and yet,
what kindness, what love was lavished on me
during those days of my .preparation ! I was
admitted into the house of the Jesuits, to
make a retreat under Father Villefort's direc-
tion ; and he fed and gladdened my soul with
the most delightful and soothing utterances
of the Divine Word. That man of God can
hardly be called a man ; he is rather all heart,
— a personification of heavenly charity. But
no sooner were my eyes opened, than I saw
around me many, many men of similar stamp,
of whose existence the world knows nothing.
What gentle kindness, what delicacy, what
gracefulness, have I found in my intercourse
with these Christians indeed ! During my re-
treat, the venerable superior of the Jesuits
visited me every evening, and poured the
fragrant balm of heaven into my soul. He
spoke to me but a few words; but they were
words which expanded and grew as I listened
11

122 THE CONVERSION OF

to them, and filled me with joy and light
and life.

That priest, so humble, and yet so power-
ful, had no need to speak to me ; it was
enough to see him : the remembrance of his
features is even now enough to place me in
the presence of God, and to make my whole
soul glow with living gratitude. 1 cannot
find words to express all my gratitude ; I
should need a thousand tongues to tell the
love I feel for these men of God, — for M.
Theodore de Bussieres, that minister and fore-
runner of Mary — for the family of the Lafer-
ronnays, whom I regard with a veneration
and an affection above all words.

At length the 31st of January dawned
upon me, and I found myself surrounded with
an atmosphere of tenderness and sympathy.
How gladly would I know each one of those
pious souls, that I might express my fervent
gratitude ! May they all ever pray for me,
even as I pray for them !

O Rome, what grace and blessing have I
found in thy sacred bosom ! The Mother of
my Lord and Saviour had arranged all that
concerned me ; she had brought a French
priest to address me in my mother-tongue at
the solemn moment of my baptism, — 1 mean
M. Dupanloup, whose memory is linked indis-
solubly to that of the most profound emotions
of my life. Happy they whose privilege it
was to listen to him ; for the echoes of that

MAEIE-ALPHONSE KATISBONNE. 123

mighty address which the press has repeated
can give no idea of what it really was. I
felt that he too was inspired by her of whom
he was speaking.

I will not relate the circumstances of my
baptism, my confirmation, and my first com-
munion,— suffice it to say, that I received all
these ineffable graces in that one day at the
hands of his Eminence Cardinal Patiizi vicar
of his Holiness.

I should weary you, were I to attempt to
tell you of all my impressions, — of all that I
have seen and heard and felt. ... if I were
to make mention of the brotherly charity
which has been so profusely lavished on me.
I will mention only the very distinguished
Cardinal Mezzofanti ; . . . . the Lord has en-
dowed this illustrious person with the gift of
tongues, in reward of a heart which makes
itself every thing to every one.

One last great consolation was in reserve
for me. You remember how earnestly I
wished to see the Holy Father ; indeed this
desire, or this curiosity, had kept me at
Home longer than I intended. Little did I
imagine under what circumstances my wish
was to be gratified. It was as a new-born
child of the Church that I was presented to the
Father of all the faithful. From the moment
of my baptism I had felt for the Sovereign
Pontiff the reverent love of a son ; and I was
delighted when it was told me that I was to

124 THE CONVERSION OF

be introduced into his presence by the rever-
end General of the Jesuits. Yet I trembled
at the anticipation, for I had never mingled
with great people ; and the earth's greatest
men sunk into insignificance in presence of
this true greatness. I confess that all the
royalties of earth seemed to me concentrated
upon the head of him who wields on earth the
powers of the world to come ; upon that
pontiff who succeeds in an unbroken line, to
the keys of St. Peter, and to the high-priest-
hood of Aaron, — that representative of Jesus
Christ himself, whose unshaken throne he fills.

Never shall I forget my awe and the beat-
ings of my heart as I entered the Vatican,
and passed through the vast courts, the im-
posing halls, which led to the sanctuary of
the Pontiff. But all my anxiety was dis-
pelled, to make room for surprise and wonder,
when I saw him himself, so simple, so humble,
so paternal. He was not a monarch, but a
father, whose extreme kindness treated me as
a beloved son.

My God ! and will it be thus at that last
day, when I shall appear before Thee, to give
account of all the graces I have received?
We tremble at thought of the majesty of
God, and we fear His justice ; but when His
mercy shall be made known, our hopes and
trust will revive, and with them a love and a
gratitude without bounds.

Gratitude ? yes, gratitude is henceforward

MARIE-ALPHONSE EATISBONNE.

125

my law and my life. Never can I adequately
express it in words ; but I will endeavour to
condense and suggest it by my actions.

The letters I have received from my
family set me free from every engagement ;
and I offer my liberty to God, for all my life,
to be employed in the service of the Church
and of my brethren, under the protection
of Mary. . . .

ir

126 THE LATTER YEARS OF

THE LATTER YEARS

OF

M. LE COMTE DE LAFERKOimAYS.

We feel it a duty to append to the narrative
of this wonderful conversion two letters writ-,
ten to the Union Catholique, containing a
brief account of the latter years of the Count
de Laferronnays, whose name is so closely
connected with that of M. Ratisbonne.

JRome, 19th January, 1842.

As you go along the Yia Sacra, amongst
the monuments which surround the ancient
Forum with their picturesque ruins, you will
notice that the temple of the twin-founders of
Koine has suffered less than the rest from the
ravages of time, and of the barbarian invad-
ers of Rome. Christianity consecrated it, and
so preserved its ruins. It was restored by a
Pope in the sixth century; and became a
church under the invocation of St. Cosmas and
St. Dainian — two brothers also, two Christian
brothers, united during life by their mutual
love, hi death by martyrdom, in eternity by
a common glory.

M. LE COMTE DE LAFEEEONNAYS. 127

I love this church, as a monument of the
earlier triumphs of the faith over paganism.
Yesterday the Blessed Sacrament was exposed
in it, and I went to visit it. My mind was
full of the memory of M. de Laferronnays ;
and I was thinking that, hut a year ago, he
was kneeling near me in that church, praying
at the tomb of the two martyrs, in presence
of the Blessed Sacrament. I pictured him to
myself as I had seen him, kneeling at the ba-
lustrade of the sanctuary, in an attitude of
deep recollection, with his hands clasped, and
his features composed into an angelic fer-
vour. I read over again, with deep feeling,
a prayer of reparation composed by him and
written with his own hand, which he had let

fall from his book as he was going away

His death allows me to publish this touching
prayer ; and I think you will be glad to see
some extracts from it. Surely it. is for the
glory of God ; and it reveals to us the gran-
deur of his own soul and the fervour of his
true repentance :

" O mysterious provision of a love surpass-
ing knowledge, it is to Thee I owe my rescue
from despair ; Thou alone couldst, and Thou
didst raise my soul out of the deadly despon-
dency into which it was cast by the appalling
and ever-present memory of my numberless

and heinous sins I may show myself

to the world as a living proof of Thine inex-
haustible and most tender pity. I confess

128 THE LATTER YEARS OF

that, during the frightful madness to which 1
willingly abandoned myself for so many years,
I have exceeded the extremest limits of ingra-
titude. From my childhood Thou hadst made
me feel Thy protection, in placing me under
the shield and direction of the tenderest and
most pious of mothers, until the age when I
was first called and admitted to Thy holy ta-
ble. And still later, when my passions began
to lay on me their degrading yoke, Thou, O
my God, didst not cease to call 'me to Thyself.
Often, amidst my wanderings, Thy voice
reached my heart's depth in spite of all my
resistance, and there uttered its severe coun-
sels, its salutary threatenings ; but, alas, Thy
paternal admonitions did not lead me to re-
pentance ; they occasioned only transitory
uneasiness, which I shook off by plunging yet
deeper into sin. Later still, when Thou didst
allow my lot to be united to that of the most
excellent of women, Thou didst surround me
with patterns and guides, who all pointed out
to me the way of return unto Thee by walking
in it themselves so faithfully. It is Thou, 0
God of goodness, who hast constantly and
strangely preserved me during all the vicissi-
tudes of my public life ! In those days of re-
volution and wild folly, my sullied soul could
have appeared before the tribunal of Thy jus-
tice only to hear the sentence of its everlast-
ing condemnation. Thou didst allow death
to threaten, but not to strike, my guilty head ;

M. LE COMTE DE LAFERRONNAYS. 129

Thou didst wait still for nry love ! And these
are but the least of the graces Thou hast be-
stowed on me ; and how have I recompensed

them ! For more than half a century I

have wilfully closed my eyes, that I might
not see, and stopped my ears, that I might
not hear. I sacriticed to tiie devil my rest, my
life, my conscience, my soul, my salvation.
Regardless of thy goodness, O my God, and
putting away the Hand that was stretched
out to save me, I took pleasure in accumulat-
ing sin upon sin, outrage upon outrage, as
though I were eagerly bent on my own de-
struction. My iniquities towered like a great
mountain up to the throne of Thy justice, and

braved and provoked Thy vengeance

O my God, never, never was any child of
Thine so ungrateful, so guilty as I then was
in Thy sight. And when at length, sated and
palled with the poisoned pleasures of the
world, exhausted by weariness and disgust, the
snows of old age brought their warnings of
death, — when serious thoughts and an awak-
ening sorrow shook my soul, — then, horrified,
at myself, I thought my hour of forgiveness
was past, that my tardy and insufficient re-
morse could no more disarm Thine anger:
and I added to all my other sins this greatest
sin— I doubted Thy mercy. But Thou didst
send to my aid a guide, a comforter, wrho sus-
tained my courage, and led me to Thy feet.

130 THE LATTER YEARS OF

and taught me to know Thee better, to im-
plore Thy forgiveness and to hope."

Do not these pages, marked as they are
by the tears of M. de Laferronnays, seem
as though they were taken from that book
in which St. Augustine, touched by God's
grace, has treasured up the confession of
his long wanderings, and the bitter expres-
sion of his regrets?

In one of his letters he gives an account
of his conversion. TVre give it in his own
words; for who would presume to substi-
tute a narrative for these touching effusions
of a penitent soul at the foot of the cross?

"The reflections I have had time enough
to make during my long and lonely journey,
have at length borne some fruit. When I
reached Paris, I was convinced, and my
mind was made up ; my decision and my
conviction are not the result of enthusiasm
or of precipitation. Nor is it the brilliance of
any light that might dazzle me that has
opened my eyes : my soul has not been com-
pelled to put itself on the defensive against
the charm of a persuasive elocpience ; what-
ever living convictions I have ever had
spring from within me. I have yielded only
after long and earnest resistance; the old
man has struggled vigorously — the conflict
has been long and desperate. But as I re-
traced my eight-and-nfty years, and exam-
ined calmly the long succession of days

M. LE COMTE DE LAFERRONNAYS. 131

which were employed in sin ; as I thought of
the evil example I had given to others, and the
scandal of which I have so often been the occa-
sion ; as I reflected that amongst this countless
multitude of actions there was not one that
was good, — I was horrified at myself, and con-
ceived such a detestation of myself, that
despair had well-nigh seized my heart, to
the exclusion of true repentance. I passed
several days of my journey in a state of
violent and painful emotion. Then, all on
a sudden, I know not how or why, I felt
myself calm and almost happy, as though
some gentle and soothing influence had sunk
down into my soul. It was hope. I remem-
bered that hope was not only permitted, but
commanded as a duty, and that forgiveness
was promised to the penitent sinner. I
blessed and praised God for having awak-
ened my conscience, and for soothing my
remorse by hope and faith. And in this
state of mind I reached Paris. I felt now
that I have no more to dread human re-
spect, no more false shame to overcome.
One of my first visits was paid to your
friend in the Rue de Grenelle, to whom I
gave your letter. I had a long interview
with him. I was anxious that the man
should know the man before the judge heard
the tale of the culprit. I told him all the
story of my sinful life; and I assure you I
did it sincere!}', and without any conscious

132 THE LATTER TEARS OF

desire to exculpate myself. I felt a kind of
comfort and of ease in thus giving him my
confidence, even without imposing on him
any obligation of secrecy ; it seemed to me
a fitting and useful penance. After these con-
fessions made to the man, it was neither pain-
ful nor difficult to me to repeat them at the
feet of the judge who has received the noble
mission, the consoling power, to pardon and
to absolve. My habitual vanity made a faint
resistance, but a better feeling vanquished it;
and I have a good hope that God, who reads
all hearts, saw my sincere repentance, and
that His infinite mercy has ratified the sen-
tence of His minister. And now ten days
have passed. I feel with delight and with
gratitude that my resolutions are stronger day
by day. My reason, subjugated by grace,
humbly accepts the teaching of faith; my un-
derstanding no longer loses itself in vain and
fruitless analyses of mysteries beyond its
range; I believe in all simplicity, and I find
it a blessing and a boon to be able to believe
that which commands nothing but what is
good, and promises nothing but happiness."
This was a great and solemn crisis in the
life of Count de Laferronnays. Having once
resolved, he never wavered, but steadily per-
severed. Nothing could throw him back, or
quell his courage. He helieved, and from
that moment his whole life was raised up to
the high level of his faith. The terrors of

M. LE COMTE DE LAFEEliONN XY8. 133

human respect, which are generally so mighty
ai public men. never shook his noble heart.
It was so high a blessedness, so great an
honour, as he said, to possess the Catholic
faith, "that he could not but walk manfully
erect in its divine light. While he was as
humble and simple as a child in all his prac-
tices of devotion, his soul grasped and held
with a generous fervour the loftiest inspira-
tions of Christianity. He felt and realised all
its strong resolves, all its tender yet energetic
emotions, its meek compassion, its sublime
self-devotedness, its high thoughts, its far-
reaching views, its rarest' and choicest sug-
gestions. Certainly his was a grand and a
noble soul; and religion, in pervading him
with its mighty life, had still further raised
and ennobled him.

I do not affect, however, to pronounce his
eulogy ; I wish you simply to see him as he
really was. Here is an extract from a letter
written in reference to a friend who had lost
his only child, a tenderly-beloved daughter :

" What a wretched return home ! What

a moment was their arrival at L without

her! What a void around them, within
them; and what a despoiled and desolate life
is theirs ! All these thoughts oppress the
heart and weary the mind, and lay him who
has the blessedness of believing prostrate at
the foot of the cross. What can we ask or
expect of man in these great crises of the soul?
12

134: THE LATTER YEAES OF

How can the most quick and tender sym-
pathy reach a grief so poignant? No, my
dear friend, the deepest affection is powerless
here ; it can find no words to heal a wound
like this. Religion alone, and unfailingly,
suggests the words which the smitten heart
craves to hear; it alone has the right and the
power to take from our tears their excess of
bitterness ; it alone dares speak of hope in
presence of despair ; it alone can tell of a
compensating future to those who have no
longer either past or present. Religion alone
has the sublime power to raise from the dust
the stricken soul, by speaking of the certainty
of the eternal reunion of those whom death's
fell stroke has far awhile sundered. O, how
I pity those who surfer, and yet are so miser-
able as to feel any doubt on these grand and
comforting truths ! Whenever a fresh grief
assails the heart, how sad not to know where
to look for succour ; to be obliged to wrestle
with anguish and with despair alone. The
soul of the Christian, on the contrary, finds
ever a sure refuge at the foot of the cross ;
there it pours forth its tears, and the wail of its
grief: thence it draws the strength and the cou-
rage of resignation, which is simply impos-
sible without the faith which gives hope. . . ."
The same grace which had led him to the
true source of consolation, revealed to him
also the value and worth in the eyes of God
of those souls which sin has degraded, and

M. LE COMTE DE LAFEKRONNAYS. 135

which the Christian faith can restore, while
the world crushes them with its scorn. What
striking words are these, in reference to a
distinguished person, who was drawing near
to the close of a life of most shameful disorder :
i; That head once so high, so insolent, —
now bowed down to the grave ; that counte-
nance, so witty, so merry, so boldly bad in
its expression, — now so gloomy, so besotted,
and all its fire extinguished ! All this slow
and humiliating decomposition of a form and
a constitution which was the matter of so
much pride, the instrument and incentive of
such daring abuses ! What lessons are these !
Well, my friend, this decrepitude, this moral
death, this loathsome close of a scandalous
life disgusts the world ; it flees in horror, or
contempt, or pity. Ijut God is there still.
He judges not as men judge ; with one word,
with one look, He can raise again that de-
graded soul, and renew and sanctify it. And
he, whom we look upon with so much dis-
dain, with a pity so insulting — could he but
once raise his heart and his eyes to heaven —
this man, so worn out by sin, has perhaps his
prepared place on high ! Yet a few days of
suifering and of humiliation, and it may be
he will look down on us with pity and com-
passion ! Our sublime religion teaches us
thus much ; and these people, forsooth, tell
you that it is mere foolery ! They kill you,
they wither and waste you, and then give

136 THE LATTER YEARS OF

yon up to annihilation ; and they call this
philosophy, the love of wisdom ! "

The ambition of M. de Laferronnays had
never been tempted by the glitter of great-
ness, nor by the desire of playing an impor-
tant part in those councils on which hung
suspended the destiny of France and of all
Europe. He wrote thus, on the very clay of
his nomination to the Ministry of Foreign
Affairs :

" My friend, I am very wretched and
very unfortunate. In spite of all my resolu-
tions, I have accepted this dreaded office.
I might, perhaps, have resisted the wishes of
the king ; but I have yielded to his sadness,
to his goodness ; and here I am, chained to
the oar. You will read my sentence this
morning in the Moniteur / and you will be
able to "say to yourself that, even in my new
position, coveted as it is by so many, France
does not contain a more pitiable and unfortu-
nate creature than I am. It is a singular
thing, this destiny, — and I can make nothing
of mine ; for it drives me always in the direc-
tion I am anxious to avoid. But it has never
behaved so badly, never played me such a
trick as this. If ever 'you happen to hear
that I am ambitious, that I love what men
call honours, and the whirl and bustle of busi-
ness, and the importance of a great place, or
any of those great human absurdities in virtue
of which men worry one another, and over-

M. LE COMTE DE LAFEERONNAYS. 137

turn empires, pray make haste and tell them
it is all false." •

But it was from a graver and loftier point
of view that he looked down upon these
human absurdities after his conversion. He
was raised above them by all the height of
tlr.it eternity which was his habitual thought.

" When it is at the close of fifty years of life
that these grand thoughts of death and its
results lay hold on one, do you think it well
to try to distract one's mind, and that one is
wTrong in not feeling disposed to make the at-
tempt ? . Will you deem me very absurd in
desiring that nothing may ever lessen the
influence of these thoughts upon me, —
thoughts which are most mighty and influen-
tial in silence and in solitude? Iso, my
friend, I am very sure that you understand
me ; and that if any imperious duty com-
pelled me to give it my feeble remnant of
strength, you would be able to pity me, and
to appreciate the immense sacrifice which it
would be to me at my age, and with such a
terrible past. Every moment is of infinite
value ; one fears every thing that might di-
vert or alter the employment of these precious
moments. I have lust so much time, that
avary thing which stops me on my way, or
throws me back, may expose me to the risk
of being surprised before I reach my goal.
Perhaps I am too singular in all this ; the
Doliticians of your salons, and your editors
12*

138 THE LATTER YEARS OF

of journals, don't think of these things ; and
in urging me as ttfey do, they care very little
where I should fall at the last. But it is of
great importance to me. And so they may
rest assured that, unless I feel convinced that
it is the will of God concerning me, no con-
siderations will induce me to yield."

Most of the admirable letters were written
from Rome. It was at Rome, that pure
source of the faith, that this noble soul had
drunk in the copious dews of heaven, and
struck its roots so deep in so short a time; it
was in the genial warmth of that Catholic
atmosphere that it had opened its loveliest
flowers, and diffused its most fragrant per-
fumes. And it was on that hallowed soil,
which he had found so propitious to him, that
the venerable tree fell, almost pressed to
earth by the weight of its fruit, — its tender
charity, its sincere and unaffected piety, its
lowly repentance, and all the other graces of
which his vigorous old age, renewed by faith,
had been so fruitful. And the sweet odour
of his sanctity abides in the Church of Rome,
as an added glory and adornment ; in the
memory of all his friends, as a powerful
charm which binds them or draws them to
Christianity ; and in the very hearts he has
bruised so sore, as a balm of heaven to their
w^ounds, as a manifest pledge of eternal
life.

M. LE COMTE DE LAFERRONNAYS. 139

SECOND LETTER.

Rome, 2M January, 1842.

1 had gathered the details enclosed here-
with a few days after the death of M. de La-
ferronnays. By some unhappy inadvertence,
the letter, which I thought was on its way to
you, was left in my desk. I still forward it,
notwithstanding the delay which I deplore;
the memory of if. de Laferronnays cannot be
so soon effaced in France, even in these lively
times when an event can scarcely preserve a

past of'twenty-four hours

Alas, alas, another grievous loss, a loss
quite unexpected too ! The day before yester-
day, at this very hour, my old and dear friend,
Count de Laferronnays, was with me to intro-
duce a young painter whose genius and piety
had inspired him with a lively interest.
"When I reproached him for being late, he
said : " I could not come sooner ; I had an
important letter to write, and it was indis-
pensable that it should go off to-day. ..."
He little thought, nor did I, how indispensable
it was that he should avail himself of that
courier. I left him to pay some visits, with-
out bidding him adieu even ; and I was never
to see him again alive He accom-
panied my children, who were going out with
his daughter, and his son-in law, the Count
de Meun ; they went together to St. John

140 THE LATTER YEARS OF

Lateran, where he prayed for a considerable
time before the Blessed Sacrament, as was
his wont. He complained a little of a pain in
the chest, which came on at intervals, and was
so sharp and sudden that it prevented his
walking; but in all other respects he was as
cheerful and lively as usual. My children
met him again at Benediction, in the chapel
at the Perpetual Adoration, on the Quirinal.

There was on that evening a brilliant y&0
at the Austrian Embassy. Madame de La-
ferronnays was to take her daughters there ;
and while they were dressing, M. de Lafer-
ronnays amused himself by playing with his
grandchild. It was between half-past eight
and nine ; he complained still of his pain ; but
as it was habitual, they were sorry for it, but
felt no serious anxiety. They attributed it to
the effect of a brasero they had put into the
room to warm it, and the excessive heat of
which had drawn the blood to his chest. But,
however that may have been, they sent for
the physician. Madame de Laferronnays
wrote a few words to the Abbe Gerbet ; but
his state occasioned so little alarm, that M. de
Meun expressed to his sister-in-law his regret
at Madame de Laferronnays' tendency to
exaggerate her husband's ailments. The letter
to the Abbe Gerbet wras not sent immediately.
When the physician arrived, he advised bleed-
ing, and a surgeon was sent for. But the pain
became easier ; they thought the crisis past,

M. LE COMTE "DE LA.FERRONNAYS. 14:1

and stopped the bleeding. However, the re-
turn of the pain made them send again for the
surgeon, who made two fruitless attempts to
bleed him again. He now suffered most acute-
ly, and cries of anguish escaped him in spite
of his self-control. During this time, his wife
— his angelic wife — was in a state of keen dis-
tress ; going and coming, trying to avoid hear-
ing his moans ; when a few words disclosed
to her the imminence of the danger. She sat
down by the bed on which he had just been
laid, took his hand in hers, and did not leave
him again. She sat in perfect calmness, full
of gentleness and resignation. Meanwhile the
Abbe' Gerbet arrived, approached the bed,
and gave him his blessing ; and then, at some
questions addressed to him, the beloved pa-
tient replied with a surprising burst of fervour :
" Yes, yes ; oh, yes, I do repent of all my sins.
Oh, yes, I do love God with all my soul ! "
And taking the cruciiix, he pressed it eagerly
to his lips, and repeated several times this
simple invocation : " My God, have mercy on
me! Holy Virgin, pray for me; come to my
aid ! " He had enjoyed the privilege of com-
municating the day before. In this extreme
danger his confessor gave him absolution ; he
received it with profound repentance, and his
eyes were blinded with tears of sorrow and of
gratitude. Then his face regained its usual
serenity, and betokened the calmness, the
divine peace, the heavenly joy of his soul.

142 THE LATTER TEARS OF

" How happy I feel now ! " said he, with fail-
ing voice, but with a smile of absolute confi-
dence and hope ; " how happy I feel now ! "
But soon his breathing became more difficult :
" Adieu," said lie to his beloved wife, taking
her hand in his, " adieu, my dear children !". . .
and in a few moments his soul, so pure, so
noble, so truly Christian, appeared before
God ; while his young daughters were kneel-
ing beside his bed in their gay festival dresses.
It was a heart-rending scene. It was now
only half-past ten o'clock. What an unex-
pected bereavement ! what a thunder-stroke !
But this sudden death, which snapped in two
hours bonds so strong and so sweet, came not
unlooked-for by him whom it smote. For many
years he had been awaiting his summons, and
prepared himself every day for death, as
though each day were certainly his last. On
that very day he had said to his wife, on his
return home : " I have been to Sta. Maria Mag-
giore. I knelt down, and implored the Ma-
donna ; and I said to God : Behold me, O
Lord, I am ready : take me if Thou wiliest to
have me ; but if Thou permittest me to remain
yet longer on earth, my life shall be conse-
crated to thy glory alone ! " The thought of
death had become habitual to him, yet it did
not ruffle the deep calmness of his heart, or
affect the simple gentle gaiety of his conver-
sation ; a profound distaste for pleasures and
honours had detached him from those illusions

M. LE COMTE DE LAFEKRONNAYS. 143

of which lie had felt all the nothingness, and
the energy of his faith disclosed to him,
beyond the grave, the only hopes which could
fill and content his magnificent soul. Home,
with the solemn associations of its ruins, deep-
ened the tone of those grave and holy
thoughts which were most congenial to him.
I have before me a letter which he wrote
nearly a year ago ; a few extracts from it will
reveal to you his habitual state of mind :

" I leave Rome with regret ; and but for
the important matters which summon me to
France, I should certainly have prolonged my
stay. I suppose it is because I see it now
with other eyes, and feel more deeply all its
significance. For him who is blessed with
faith, for him who has ever held lonely con-
verse with himself in that city of silence and
of faith, Rome is the city to live and to die
in. I admire as much as any one these co-
lossal ruins, which give one so grand an idea
of what ancient Rome must have been, and of
the wonderful people who raised them. I can
well understand why the imagination should
be at once enthralled and excited amidst these
stately relics; yet it is not the ruins which
fascinate me, nor the recollections of olden
time which make me sorry to leave it. It is
the soil of those theatres moistened with the
blood of thousands of martyrs, the precious
remains of those heroes of the faith, which are

14A THE LATTER YEARS OF

here preserved and venerated on the very
spot of their glorious agony ; it is the sacred
dust of the catacombs, that hallowed ground
which has witnessed the sufferings and the
triumphs of the Church, its tribulations
and its glories; it is that unshaken rock,
against which the impotent efforts of impiety,
heresy, and philosophism, have been broken
and thrown back, age after age, — this throne
of the poor fisherman, set up on the ruins of
the throne of the Csesars, the rulers of the
world ! And all that is here, all around me
as I wTalk. O my friend, how can one see all
this, and not believe ? how can one help feel-
ing at Rome some presentiment of our eternal
destiny? how can we miss seeing whence our
souls came, and whither they are going?
How can people come to Home only to see
lifeless stones ? Above all, how can they have
the heart, wjien surrounded by so many wit-
nesses of God and of His power, of the Ca-
tholic religion and its truth, — how can they
stoop to petty criticisms of incidental abuses,
of the political state of the country, or of the
peculiarity of certain religious usages and ce-
remonies— ceremonies and usages of which
our little minds know neither the meaning
nor the necessity ? To a Catholic soul Rome
is simply Catholic Rome ; it is the land of
Catholic memorials, of Catholic miracles, of
Catholic hopes. Here one's faith grows

M. LE COMTE DE LAFERRONNAYS. 14:5

stronger; here the Catholic raises a corner of
that veil which shrouds the sublime mysteries
of our religion ; here the heart of the Catholic
sees with a clear and distinct intuition the
vanity and nothingness of the pomps and
glories of this world, and already breathes the
calm and genial atmosphere of the unvarying
eternity. 1 saw Home three times while my
heart was yet frozen in religious indifference ;
and being neither an artist nor a poet, I was
terribly tired, — just as one grows tired of a
long harangue in an unknown tongue. But
now I have the faculty which enables me to
see, to hear, to understand, to feel. My clays
are all too short, I am so eager to see and to
know every thing. My soul is filled with
most delightful emotions — emotions which are
the more living and exquisite that they are so
new and fresh to me. May God grant that I
may once again see Home. . . . Yes, it is at
Home I would fain live and die. . . ."

And God heard his prayer. The Count
de Laferronnays did return to Rome ; he lived
there amid all the aids and consolations of
the faith, and he died amidst all its graces
and benedictions.

His death occasioned many sorrows and
many tears. He was so affectionate and so
gentle, that he was loved by every one.
C'unctoram amans, cunctis amdbilissimus.
His body was embalmed, and lay in state
13

146 THE LATTER YEARS OF

three days in the Palazzo Spina. Many pre-
lates and priests of France made it a point to
say Mass in that quiet chapel. The venerable
Father de Geramb passed a whole night in
prayer beside his bier — last and deepest ex-
pression of a friendship begun in youthful
dissipation, sanctified afterwards by that reli-
gion which had made the one a pattern of
true piety in the world, and the other a
model of austerities and of penitence in a
cloister of La Trappe. Every homage that
could honour his memory and comfort his
bereaved family was paid to his remains.
His own numerous friends, may illustrious for-
eigners, the ambassadors of France, Austria,
and Naples, and crowds of noble women, who
prayed and mourned apart, formed the glo-
rious procession of his funeral. The sorrow
of all these sympathising souls was soothed
by an extraordinary event connected with
this sudden death. The day after, in that
very church, and a few steps only from the
bier prepared for his funeral, M. Alphonse
Eatisbonne, for whose conversion he had
breathed his latest prayers, was smitten down
like St. Paul by a supernatural vision, and
arose imploring holy baptism, and blessing the
memory of the illustrious deceased, who had
prayed for him without knowing him. Thus
God Himself seemed to authorise us to believe
the everlasting blessedness- of the soul of our

M. LE COMTE DE LAFERRONNAYS. 147

beloved friend ; for while we were here on
earth offering our tears, our prayers, and the
precious blood of Jesus Christ for his repose,
the power of his intercession in heaven waa
attested in our midst by a miracle!

fS2 E3fB

PUBLICATIONS

OF

P. J. KENEDY,

EXCELSIOR CATHOLIC PUBLISHING HOUSE,
5 BARCLAY STREET, NEAR BROADWAY,

Opposite the Astor Souse,
NEW YORK.

Adventures of Michael Divyer . . $1 00
Adelmar the Templar. A Tale.. 4=0

Ballads, Poems, and Songs of

William Collins 1 00

Blanche. A Tale from the French. . . 40

Battle of Ventry Harbor 20

Bibles, from $2 50 to 15 OO

Brooks and Hughes Controversy 75

Butler's Feasts and Fasts 1 25

Blind Agnese. A Tale 50

Butler's Catechism ■ — 8

i( " with Mass Prayers. SO

Bible History, Challoner 50

Catholic Prayer-Boohs, 25 cts., 50 cts., up to 12 OO

<jfW Any of above books sent free by mail on receipt of
price. Agents wanted everywhere to sell above books, to
whom liberal terms will be given. Address
P. J. KENEDY, Excelsior Catholic Pub/ishing House,
5 Barclay Street, New York.

Publications of P. J. Kenedy, 5 Barclay St., N. Y.

Christian Virtues. By St. Liguori. $1 00

Christian's Bide of Life. " " 30
Christmas Night's Entertain-

ments 60

Conversion of Ratisbonne 50

Clifton Tracts. 4 vols. 3 00

Catholic Offering. By Bishop Walsh. 1 50
Christian Perfection. Rodriguez.

3 vols. Only complete edition 4 00

Catholic Church in the United

States. By J. G. Shea. Illustrated. 2 00
Catholic Missions among the

Indians 2 50

Chateau Lescure. A Tale 50

Conscience ; or, May Brooke. A Tale. 1 00

Catholic Hymn-Booh 15

Christian Brothers' 1st Book 13

2d " 25

« " 3d " 63

4th " 88

Catholic Primer 6

School-Book 25

Cannon's Practical Speller 25

Carpenter's Speller 25

Dick Massey. An Irish Story 1 OO

Doctrine of Miracles Explained. 1 00

Doctrinal Catechism * 50

Douay " ... 25

Diploma of Children of Mary. . 20

Catholic Prayer-Books, 25 cts., 50 cts., up to 12 00
IW Any of above books sent free by mail on receipt of
price. Agents wanted everywhere to sell above books, to
whom liberal terms will be given. Address
P. J. KENfCDY, Excelsior Catholic Publishing House,
5 Barclay Street, New York.

Publications of P. J. Kenedy, 5 Barclay St, N. Y.

Erin go Bragh. (Sentimental Song-
ster.) $0 25

ElNuevo Testamento. (Spanish.). 1 50

Elevation of the Soul to God 75

Epistles and Gospels. (Goffine.). . . 2 00

Eucharistica ; or, Holy Eucharist. . . 1 00

End of Controversy. (Milner.) 75

El Nuevo Catecismo. (Spanish).. . . 15
El Catecismo de la Doctrina

Cristiana. (Spanish Catechism) 15

El Catecismo Ripalda. (Spanish). 12

Furniss9 Tracts for Spiritual

Reading 100

Faugh a Ballagh Comic Song-
ster 25

Fifty Reasons 25

Following of Christ , , 50

Fashion. A Tale. 35 Illustrations. . 50
Faith and Fancy. Poems. By

Savage f5

Glories of Mary. (St. Liguori.) 1 25

Golden Book of Confraternities. 50

Grounds of Catholic Doctrine. .. 25

Grace's Outlines of History 50

Holy Eucharist 1 00

Hours before the Altar. Red
edges 50

Catholic Prayer-Books, 25 cts., 50 cts., up to 12 00

J^IP" Any of above books sent free by mail on receipt of
price. Agents wanted everywhere to sell above books, to
whom liberal terms will be given. Address

P. J. KENEDY, Excelsior Catholic Publishing IIoufc,
5 Barclay Street, New York.

Publications of P. J. Kenedy, 5 Barclay St., N. Y.

History of Ireland* Moore. 2 vols. $5 00
" " O'Mahoney's

Keating 4 00

Hay on Miracles 1 00

Hamiltons. A Tale , 50

History of Modern Europe, Shea. 1 25
Hours with Sacred Heart of

Jesus 50

Irish Fireside Stories, Tales,

and Legends (magnificent new book
just out). About 400 pages large 12mo,
containing over 40 humorous and pa-
thetic sketches. 13 fine full-page Illus-
trations. Sold only by subscription.

Only 1 OO

Irish National Songster 1 OO

Imitation of Christ 40

Keeper of the lazaretto. A Tale. 4=0

Kir wan TJnmasked 12

King's Daughters. An Allegory. .. 75

Life and Legends of St. Patrick. 1 OO

Life of St. Mart/ of Egypt 60

" Winefride 60

" Louis 40

" " Alphonsus M. Liguori. 75
" " Ignatius Loyola. 2

vols 3 OO

Life of Blessed Virgin 75

Catholic Prayer-Boohs, 25 cts., 50 cts., up to 12 00
ir*y~ Any of above books sent free by mail on receipt of
price. Agents wanted everywhere to sell above books, to
whom liberal terms will be given. Address
P. J. KENEDY, Excelsior Catholic Publishing House,
5 Barclay Street, New York,

Publications of P. J. Kenedy, 5 Barclay St., N. Y.

Life of Madame de la Peltrie. . . $0 50

Lily of Israel. 22 Engravings 75

Life Stories of Dying Penitents. 75

Love of Mary 50

Love of Christ 50

Life of Pope Pius IX 1 00

Lenten Manual 50

Lizzie Maitland, A Tale 75

Little Frank. A Tale 50

Little Catholic Hymn-Book 10

Lyra Catholica (large Hymn-Book).. 75

Mission and Duties of Young

Women 60

Maltese Cross. A Tale 40

Manual of Children of Mary 50

Mater Admirabilis 1 50

Mysteries of the Incarnation.

(St. Liguori.) 75

Month of November 40

Month of Sacred Heart oftlesus. 50

" Mary 50

Manual of Controversy 75

Michael Dwyer. An Irish Story of

1798 .*... 1 00

Milner's End of Controversy 75

May Brooke : or, Conscience. A

Tale 1 00

New Testament . . 50

Catholic Prayer-Books, 25 cts., 50 cts., up fo 12 CO
J3T" Any of above books pent free by mail on receipt of
price. Agents wanted everywhere to sell above books, to
whom liberal terms will be given. Address
P. J. KENFDY, Excelsior Catholic Publishing House,
5 Barclay Street, New York.

Publications of P. J. Kenedy, 5 Barclay St

..N.Y. ;

Schmid's Exquisite Tales, 6 vols. «,
Shipwreck* A Tale

$3 00 l

50

2 00 !

75 '■

.1

50 ;

50
40 j
50 j
75

1 00 \
SO

50

50
40

50

5

2 OO

75

50
50
50

Savage's Poems

Sybil : A Drama. By John Savage. ...

Treatise on Sixteen Names of

Ireland. By Rev. J. O'Leary, D.D. . .

Two Cottages. By Lady Fullerton. .

Think Well On't. Large type

Thornberry Abbey. A Tale

Three Eleanors. A Tale

Trip to France. Rev. J. Donelan. .
Three Kings of Cologne

Universal Reader

Vision of Old Andrew the

Visits to the Blessed Sacrament.
JVillit ~Reillif. Paper cover

Way of the' Cross. 14 Illustrations.
Western Missions and Mission-

Walker's Dictionary

Young Captives. A Tale

Young Crusaders. A Tale ....

Catholic Prayer-Boohs, 25 cts.,50 cts., up to 12 00
E3P" Any of above books sent free by mail on receipt of
price. Agents wanted everywhere to sell above books, to
whom liberal terms will be given. Address
P. J". KENEDY. Excelsior Catholic Publishing House,
5 Barclay Street, New York.

Publications of P, J. Kenedy, 5 Barclay St,, N. Y.

Oramaika. An Indian Story, $0 75

Old Andrew the Weaver 50

Preparation for Deatlu St. Li-

guori . 75

Prayer, By St. Liguori. . . 50

Papist Misrepresented 25

Poor Man's Catechism 75

Hosary Book* 15 Illustrations 10

Rome: Its Churches, Charities, and
Schools. By Rev. Wm. II. Neligan,

LL.D 1 00

Rodriguez's Christian Perfeo

tion. 3 vols. Only complete edition. 4 00

Rule of Life, St. Liguori 40

Sure Way ; or, Father and Son, 25

Scapular Book 10

Spirit of St, Liguori 75

Stations of the Cross, 14 Illustra-
tions 10

Spiritual Maxims, (St. Vincent de

Paul) 40

Saintly Characters, By Rev. Wm.

H. Neligan, LL.D 1 00

Seraphic Staff- %&

" Manual, 75 cts. to S 00

Sermons of Father Burke9 plain . 2 00

" gilt edges 3 00

Catholic Prayer-Books, 25 cts., 50 cts., up to 12 00
£5f° Any of above books sent free by mail on receipt of
price. Agents wanted everywhere to sell above books, to
whom liberal terms will be given. Address
P. J, KE1VFDY, Excelsior Catholic Publishing House,
5 Barclay Street, New York.

P. J. KENEDY,

CATHOLIC

PUBLISHER, BOOKSELLER,

Bookbinder & Importer,
5 Barclay Street, New York,

SUPPLIES ALL

Articles Used by the Catholic Trade,

AT THE VERY LOWEST PRICES.

The REV. CLERGY, BOOKSELLERS, CAN-
VA SSERS, A GENTS, and all who buy in
quantities, willfina it greatly to their ad-
vantage to order direct from us.

All Goods Shipped on Same Day that the Order is
Received.

None kt Fresh, Salable Stock sent to our Customers.

Entire Satisfaction, Guaranteed in all Cases.
OUR MOTTO IS

Punctuality, Cheapness & Despatch.

BUSSIKRES, Baron T. de BQ:

The conversion of Marie-Alphonse 76;

Ratisbonne. «R3-

111